The Middle of Us
by djmay71
Summary: Continuation of my previous fiction- A New Beginning: Follow Megan Perrasmith as she continues her path as a SRU officer and struggles to cope with the emotions that her job has become.
1. The Start of Something New

**A/N: Good day, and welcome to my new fanfiction **_**The Middle of Us. **_**For information sakes, this fiction is the continuation of my previous fiction **_**A New Beginning.**_

* * *

"Sierra- do you have the solution?" Sarge asked.

"Copy that." Came my reply.

"Scorpio."

* * *

"Lover…" Sara said in her sexy voice.

I turned around and kissed her. She wore her paramedic uniform as I wore my SRU uniform.

"I love you." I replied.

"Yeah," Sara returned, "You still didn't answer my question."

"Sorry, drinks tonight with the gang at the Goose."

"The sleazy bar where we met?"

"That'd be the one."

* * *

I walked into the main doors of SRU. Once inside, Dean Parker zip lined down from the ceiling to the floor right in front of me.

"Now you see what happens when you make a fool out of yourself, right?" I asked.

"Yea, sorry Megan- won't happen again." Dean replied frantically as he was trying to get himself out of the harness.

I gave him a quizzical look.

"Deep breaths," I instructed, "And slow down."

I turned to enter the women's locker-room.

"Yo!" came a familiar voice.

I turned to see Sam Braddock.

"Officer Samuel Braddock." I said with a smile.

"Here and in the flesh." Sam smiled back, as he started to enter the men's locker room with Dean.

My cellphone vibrated with a text message, so I grabbed it and read it.

"Suit up," I said, "Mike wants us in the debriefing room in five."

* * *

Once we had our full uniforms on- including firearms, ballistic vests and other gear, we all attended to the debriefing room, an area where SRU or Strategic Response Unit Teams would congregate to co-ordinate tactical plans and discuss events of calls throughout the day.

"Strategic Response Unit Team One." The Sargent of the team, Mike Scarlatti said, as they entered the room, "The best and brightest."

"I don't know about brightest," I replied, as we took a seat, "Dean looks green. You ok buddy?"

"I'm fine."

Mike dropped some files he was carrying onto the desk, and grabbed the remote for the projector, in which turned on a displayed an entire rap sheet of information.

"Thom Sawyer." Mike said, "Wanted for connections to the DiCamilo gang. Until yesterday, he didn't have a last known."

"And today?" I asked, knowing the question, as I read down on the projector screen.

"Residing at 14 Victoria Crescent." Mike said, "Which is why we have a warrant for his arrest."

"Containing?" I asked.

"Him, and any and all possessions at his current residence, including but not limited to cars, planes and trains."

"Trains?" Sam asked.

'Seriously, Spike, enough with the rhymes." I included, calling the Sargent by his old nickname.

Mike shook his head. "Warrant expires at 1500 so we need to hustle."

Then a loud horn rang out, followed by a woman's voice over the intercom saying "Team One, hot call!"

Mike looked out the open door to the dispatcher's desk, the location of the woman's voice.

"Jules!" Mike yelled out, "Up Team 3 from standby, we have a warrant."

"Team 3 was sent out on the domestic from an hour ago that you didn't want to go to." Jules reasoned, "I can call up Team 5 for the warrant."

Spike turned around and looked at the information.

"Yeah, ok, let's do that."

As soon as the details were finalized we were racing to the garage to get into our vehicles. In the process I purposely ran past the dispatcher's desk, where I got a 'good luck' wink from my mother.

* * *

I drove, as Sam was my passenger. In the truck behind us, were Dean and Mike.

"Jules," I asked over the radio, calling my mother by name, "What do we know?"

"Not much actually." Came her reply, "Man took a woman hostage, holding her at gunpoint on Younge Street.

"Any demands?" Mike asked, "What did the first responders report?"

"First responders reported a European man, approximately 40 years of age holding a younger European woman hostage."

"That doesn't really help us much, does it?" I asked Mike over the radio.

"We'll probably need a translator." Mike said, "Jules, contact the university and the consulate- see if anyone speaks the language."

We pulled up on scene.

"SRU on scene." I voiced into the radio, as we got out.

As soon as we got out, we were swarmed by media reporters, and newscasters. I grabbed a regular police officer by the arm and said, "We need a tighter perimeter- get these people back another forty feet."

I looked over my shoulder to Mike, who was also taking in the large crowd of both media persons, members of the public and almost every division of the police service.

I looked over my other shoulder and saw the command truck roll on scene.

"Command truck is here." I said, as we walked up to it, and entered it.

Once inside, Dean automatically sat down and started typing on the computers.

"Dean on intel." I said, "Boss, you want to talk to him?"

"Yeah, we're going to have to establish contact somehow."

"Ok, Sam, you cover him, ok?"

"Got it." Sam said.

I put my MP5 on the weapons rack and grabbed a bolt action rifle, "I'll get a Sierra post. Dean- set me up."

"Copy that." Dean said, as me, Mike and Sam left the truck.

Again, we looked at the crowd, which was now getting under control by the hundreds of officers on scene.

"You know what this reminds me of, right?" Spike asked Sam.

"First York." Sam replied.

I understood what they were talking about. Nearly a decade ago, at First York Plaza, a man had taken a woman hostage at gunpoint, and just like today, nearly every on-duty police officer, including some redundant ones, like the Marine and K9 units. Every officer wanted to act a hero. So much actually, that not enough enforcement was going on at the perimeter, which resulted in a young boy breaching the perimeter.

"Let's hope it doesn't end that way." I simply stated, "Parker- where's my perch?"

* * *

Dean found me a Sierra perch. It was on a rooftop of a nearby building that had been locked down due to the incident.

Once on the roof, I secured myself to a suitable anchor point, so I could properly lean down and off the wall to get a perfect shooting position. After I assumed the position, I immediately grabbed my binoculars and scanned the scene.

"Can you see me?" Mike asked.

"I can see you, but you need to move about 30 feet to your left to get an unhindered view. 20 feet...10 feet. Bang- you're good."

Over the radio, I could hear the conversation, or for better terms, lack of conversation.

"Sir, my name is Sargent Mike Scarlatti, and I'm with the Strategic Response Unit- can you tell me what's going on?"

The man replied, but he spoke in a foreign language.

"Ok, ok, sir, I really do just want to talk to you, ok?" Mike spoke, "But we can't talk until you put the gun down, ok? Do you understand that? Gun, down- put the gun down, ok?"

Again, more foreign speech.

"Dean, where's the translator?" I asked into the radio.

"She's here- Sarah Tyrell, Ph.D. in Global Linguistics."

"Honestly, I couldn't care less- just get her hooked up with a radio."

"Mrs. Tyrell, what language is it?"

"It's Croatian." She replied, "He's saying 'It's her fault, she made me do this'."

"Croatian…" Mike replied, "That's similar to Italian, right?"

"Uh, no."

I could hear Mike sigh loudly over the radio.

"Ok, Dean, get her suited up and bring her out here."

"As a TPI?" I responded, "Don't you think that's a bit early?"

"Megan, do you see another option?" came his reply.

"Nope."

"Do you have the solution?"

I grabbed the rifle and lined up the scope reticle.

"I have the solution."

"Hold Sierra. Await my Scorpio."

The next ten minutes were quite uneventful, as when the translator finally got to Mike and Sam's location, the man no longer wanted to talk.

"He's gone silent." Sam pointed out, "Maybe we need to show our hand."

"No," Mike responded, "We come out with our guns at his head; he's going to tunnel vision to the point where all he sees is are the weapons, which he'll take as a threat, and start shooting at us. No."

"Any other options?" I asked.

"Let me try once more." Mike replied, as he returned, with the translator's help to trying to talk with the man.

The man yelled something out, as he swung his weapon hand out and in the general direction of the translator.

"Spike, we need her to fall back now." I said, "The time for kid gloves is over."

"What did he say?" I heard Mike ask the translator.

"He said, 'stop talking, or I'll kill you first.'"

"That's a direct threat." Sam summarized.

"Sierra- do you have the solution?" Mike asked.

"Copy that."

"Scorpio."

I lined up my reticle again, as I moved it, back and forth, as I followed the bobbing man's head.

Using the special breathing technique, I lowered my heart rate, so it wouldn't affect my scope balance. With my thumb, I removed the safety. With my index finger, I pulled the trigger.

Like an act of God, I killed him.

* * *

After I shot the rifle, I sat down on the roof, with my back against the cold brick. Two detectives came. One of them I recognized- Inspector Stainton. The other one must be yet another protégé of his.

They took my rifle and my sidearm from me. They bagged it up.

They escorted me down to the police cruiser I was to get in, to take me to the SIU, or Special Investigations Unit interview, where I would be cross-examined by both representatives of the SIU and my lawyer, Emily Makinson, to ensure the use of lethal force was justified.

Once at the cruiser, the unknown detective opened the door for me. I was about to get in, when Mike came up from the other side of the police car.

"Hey, Megan, you ok?"

"Sargent, you know the rules." Stainton said to Mike.

"And I'm going to talk to her- you can either accept this fact, or you can pretend it never happened, while you eat another donut."

"Sargent Scarlatti, that is out of line." Stainton said sternly.

Mike came over to my side. "You ok?" he asked again.

I nodded.

"Yeah, it's just an SIU inspection."

* * *

The SIU inspection was at the SRU headquarters. We walked past the dispatcher's desk and down the set of stairs and into the basement were the conference rooms were.

We stepped into conference room number three, where my Police Services lawyer, Emily Makinson was.

"Mrs. Megan Perrasmith." She said, as she shook my hand. We sat down at one side of the table, where the detectives, along with the SIU representative sat.

And I also knew the SIU representative. Jenna Preiur-I had been examined by her before in some of my past SIU interviews. She also knew my father.

Jenna grabbed a recording device and pressed play and put it on the table.

"Monday, December 14th, 2014- SIU Detective Jenna Preiur examining Strategic Response Unit officer Megan Perrasmith." She spoke, stating the facts for the record.

"Actually, its Team Leader Megan Perrasmith." My lawyer corrected.

"Team leader." Jenna parroted, as she adjusted my record in her file, "Ok, Sargent Michelangelo Scarlatti called Scorpio, and you took the shot, as instructed, correct?"

"Yes." I said.

"Why?"

I looked at her puzzled. "Why what?"

"Why did Sargent Scarlatti call Scorpio?"

"He called Scorpio because there was a direct threat to the third party invigilator."

"Who was the TPI?" Jenna asked, "Sorry, but your Inspector is very bad at getting me the documents I need."

"Hey." Inspector Stainton said, "I heard that."

"I was hoping you would." Jenna bluntly replied. "Who was the TPI?"

"The third party invigilator was Sarah Tyrell from the University of Toronto."

"Ph.D?" she asked.

"Yes, In Global Linguistics."

"Was there a language barrier?"

"Yes. The suspect…"

"Geoffrey Cabe." Jenna interrupted.

"What?" I asked.

"Geoffrey Cabe. You do know the name of the man you shot, do you not?"

I was thinking of replying, but I looked over to Emily who shook her head, signing for me not to reply.

"Stick to the facts, please." Emily pointed out.

"What language was he speaking?" Jenna asked.

"The interpreter identified it as Croatian."

"Do you think all possible attempts of a peaceful resolution were utilized before the use of lethal force was enacted?"

"Yes." I replied, although I hardly believed it myself, "My Sargent took several attempts of speaking to the man to lower his weapon so the situation could be discussed."

Jenna nodded, as she turned off the recorder. "Very well, your sequester is nullified."

* * *

I was the last person to leave the conference room, as SIU required me to surrender my uniform to them for evidence purposes. Thankfully, someone had taken the liberty to go to my locker and have some of my clothes delivered.

Once I was back on the main floor, Mike, Sam and Dean walked out of the debriefing room.

"You guys are a bit overdressed for drinks at the bar." I joked, as they were still wearing their uniforms, "Meet you guys there?"

* * *

At the bar, I found a large booth. A few minutes after I sat down, Jules came and sat down beside me.

"Where's Sara?" she asked, as she ordered a drink.

"It's her parent's anniversary." I said, "She wanted me to go."

"And instead you're here having drinks?" mom asked, "Real classy."

I gave her a dark look, as Mike, Dean and Sam sat down.

A waitress came over to take their order.

"Two beers?" Mike asked Sam, who agreed, "And a ginger-ale for this guy here." He said, as he messed up Dean's short hair.

"I'm old enough, I'm having a drink." Dean said.

"No, you're not." Mike replied, with a laugh, "He'll have a beer too."

"Where's your dad?" Sam asked Dean.

"He was right behind me." Dean said, as he looked around, "I highly doubt he forgot his way to this place."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Greg Parker asked, as he took a seat next to Jules, "Where Kristina?"

"With the sitter." Jules said, "I wouldn't take my daughter here."

"Does that make me a bad parent?" came a man's voice.

We all turned around, to see Ed come in, carrying his six year old daughter, Isabel, with Clark, his son, behind him.

"Yes, it does." I said, jokingly.

Ed leaned over and grabbed Dean's beer from in front of him, "I better check this for you."

Ed drank a large portion of the drink. "Yeah, it's good."

"Can I have it back?" Dean asked.

"No, get your own." Ed said, jokingly as he slid the drink back over to Dean.

Clark finally found a chair and set it up at the end of the table.

"So Clark, how was work today?" Spike started a conversation.

I tried to keep my mind in the conversation but my mind raced back to the SIU inspection.

_Geoffrey Cabe…I shot Geoffrey Cabe._

Suddenly I needed to get up. Everyone let me out. I tried to hide it as much as I could, but I walked as fast as I could to the ladies room.

I looked at myself in the mirror. _I am a murderer. I killed Geoffrey Cabe._

I bent down and splashed some water in my face. When I brought myself back up, I saw Ed in the reflection of the mirror.

"Jesus- Ed!" I said, "Privacy!"

"I heard about what happened today." Ed coolly replied, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he stood in the women's washroom, "You ok?"

"I'm fine."

Ed started to walk out. As he got to the door he turned back and said, "No, you're not."

Ed left, leaving me to decipher his cryptic words.

* * *

**A/N: As you can tell, there's already an interesting psychological story arc here with Megan, and we're only one chapter in.**

**Please read, favor****ite and review. Or at least one of those, but at the same time, if you don't favorite or review, I get kinda sad. **


	2. Little Perasmith

**A/N: Alright, so this chapter is going to introduce a new writing tool that I might start using a lot. I'm calling it 'journal entries'. If you're an avid reader of my previous fictions, then you may recognize this writing style from Chapter 70 of my fiction titled **_**A New Beginning.**_** I want my readers to let me know if they like the 'journal entries' or not.**

* * *

"I'm gonna get you!" Sara playfully said to Kristina as she chased her around the living room.

Sara was feinting the inability to keep up with Kristina, my 3 year old step-sister. Sara seemed like a natural with Kristina.

But Kristina bumped into the coffee table and fell down, head first into the hardwood.

As if she was a person that I'd have to save as part of my job, I was at Kristina within seconds, from my sitting position on the couch.

She was crying, so I picked her up and started to soothe her.

Sara came forward, "Sorry." She whispered.

"It's ok." I said to both Sara and Kristina.

I brought Kristina forward to look at where she landed, and examined the skin.

"I don't see anything, should be good, right?" I asked Sara, who was much better at things like this, since she was an Advanced Care Paramedic.

Sara took Kristina into her arms.

"She's going to bruise up."

"Is it going to be bad?" I asked.

"It shouldn't be too bad."

"Mom's going to kill me." I said, as I slouched back to the couch.

Sara put Kristina down, who acted like nothing happened and returned to being a happy 3-year old, running around the room.

"It was my fault." Sara said, as she sat down next to me and cuddled close.

Sara was my girlfriend. I had met her at the Goose almost two years ago when I was questioning my sexuality. One amazing night with her, and I knew two things- that I was a lesbian and that I loved Sara. We had been dating for a while, and when my mother was in Mount Royal Psychological Rehabilitation Centre, we had got more serious. I had moved in with her. We were planning a future together.

Sara grabbed Kristina in mid run and held her up, "Who wants ice cream?"

Kristina screamed in glee.

* * *

_So, maybe Ed was right. What he said to me the other night, when we had got together and had drinks- he said 'no you're not', when I had told him I was fine. Maybe I'm not fine. Maybe there is something wrong with me._

_Nonetheless, I figured I might as well write this down. _

_Sometimes I just wish I could go back in time. Not to everything, just to what I want, because God knows there are things I do not want to re-live. I don't want to re-live the night I found out that my father was killed. I don't want to re-live the time that I was kidnapped by a crazy lunatic who my dad had arrested. I don't want to re-live the fights between my dad and my 'mother'._

_Yeah, my 'mother'. I never really liked her. I'm glad that my father divorced her. Without the divorce he would have never moved in with his SRU Team-mate, Jules and fallen in love with her. He would've never married her. They would have never had a beautiful child- Kristina._

_I wish I could go back to when I was three years old- to when I was blissfully ignorant of my surroundings, and without a care in the world. To a time where I could've fallen asleep with the only thought of the rainbows and butterflies of the world, and wake up to a world full of ponies and ice cream._

_But instead I'm 20 years old, and a full time Strategic Response Unit officer. I don't hate the job, but it does tune you into reality. Because to fall asleep now, I have to know for sure that the door is locked, and that I know exactly where my sidearm is. Before I fall asleep, I wonder if one of the family members of the people I've had to shoot will break in to my home, and try to kill me- or try to rape Sara._

_Sadly, the last part did ring true a year and a half ago. _

_So yes, I wish I could go back to being three years old, because as fun as life is now, with a fulfilling job and being with a woman I love- I'll never be able to tune out my paranoia and my fears completely._

_Knowing fully well my childish innocence is gone forever; I look to my step-sister and hope that hers will never fade. I hope that when she's twenty years old, she'll still be comforted by rainbows and butterflies as she sleeps. I know that it's out my control, but I think if I push her the right way, she won't end up like me, and like her father was, because I'm sure dad was like this too. _

_I have to make sure she never becomes a police officer._


	3. You Give Rock a Bad Name

"Dude, I keep telling you- you have to slide into your solo right after I hit the high E" the lead guitarist said to the other guitarist.

They stood together on the stage of the small venue that they were to play that night.

Off the right however, in a section of the venue aptly named 'the pit', were two young teenaged girls hiding, waiting for the right moment to pop out of their cover and approach the members of the band that they were really into.

"Where's everybody else?" the lead guitarist asked the other.

"Probably sleeping in the bus."

"You mean the van, right?"

"Yeah, whatever, sleeping in the van."

Suddenly the door from the lobby opened, and an older gentleman entered.

"Can I help you?" the other guitarist asked.

"No…" the man said, as he pulled out a handgun from his jacket, "You killed my daughter!"

* * *

We raced down to the scene where the call had come. Over the radio, Jules filled us in.

"The band, Shallow Creek is playing at a small bar venue named 'Zoolander', an older man is holding two band members hostage. According to the caller, he's accusing them of killing his daughter."

"Still have the caller on the line?" Mike asked, who sat in my passenger's seat.

"You bet Sarge." Jules said, as she started the process, "Transferring her to you."

The line went dead, and then a weak "Hello?" came.

"Hi, this Sargent Mike Scarlatti with the police Strategic Response Unit- is it safe for you to be talking to me?"

"Yes."

"Does the gun man know that you're there?"

"No."

"Good- I want you to stay hidden ok, is there anybody else hiding with you?"

"Yes, my friend, Erica."

"Ok, perfect- what's your name honey?"

"Jade."

"Ok, Jade, you're doing very good right now ok, you just have to stay hidden. Does the band know that you're there?"

"No- we were hiding, we wanted their autographs."

"Ok, that's really cool. When this is all done, you'll still be able to get their autographs."

"We're here." I said to Mike.

"Ok, Jade, stay on the line, I'll be right back, ok?" Mike said, "Megan, take Sam and Dean inside. You need to talk this man down, I'll work intel and stay on the line with our civilians."

"We need to get them out of there without alerting anyone." Sam said, as he came around the SUV.

"Alright, let's work on that then." I said, "Boss, we're going to need blueprints on the PDAs. Dean, I want you to get in position and start talking to the gun man."

"It's my first intervention." Dean said nervously.

"And you're going to do fine, ok?" I said with encouragement, as we entered the building, "You know why? Because both me and Mike are going to help you through it."

Dean nodded as he went ahead.

Sam brought up his PDA, as we looked at the screen. "According to our civilians inside, our gunman is here, and the band members are on the stage here and here. The civilians are here, in the pit."

"There's a door right here adjacent to the pit. Once we're inside though, we're exposed. We need to cover our entry."

Me and Sam studied the plans again. "Mechanical room here-" Sam said, "I can cut the power, covering your entry, and allowing the safe extraction of the civilians. Once they're safe, I can Sierra from the sound booth up top."

I nodded, "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Dean entered the auditorium like area.

"What the.." the gunman said, as he spun around to view Dean, "Get the hell out of here!"

"Sorry sir, I cannot do that, ok? But what I will do, is, I'm going to put my gun on the floor here. Think you can do the same?"

"Good job." Megan radioed to him, "Asking to follow by example."

"Can't do that! These 'rock stars' are going to pay for what they did to my little girl!"

"Sir, my name is Officer Dean Parker. You can call me Dean, ok? What's your name?"

"They killed my girl…" the man said, starting to weep.

"Sir, I can tell that your daughter meant a lot to you. What was her name?"

That seemed to make him stop crying, because now he jumped onto the stage and pointed his gun at time.

"They have to die!"

"Sir, why don't you tell me your name, so we can talk about this?"

"Dean," Megan radioed to him, "Back off a bit. You need to establish some common ground. Tell him something about yourself."

Dean nodded, although he knew it was useless, that Megan couldn't see him.

"Sir, I have a girlfriend, her name is Emily. She means the world to me, and I can tell that your daughter means the world to you too."

"She does…" he said, "Alyssa means everything to me."

"Searching recent deaths with the name Alyssa." Mike radioed in.

"Ok, Dean, we're going to be cutting the power to extract the civilians, ok?" Megan said over the radio, "You need to tell him that there's must have been some sort of electrical failure, ok?"

"Sir- my team has been looking in the mechanical room here, and something doesn't look good. The power is going to cut out soon, ok? I just want to tell you so you aren't alarmed, ok? They're going to try to get it up as fast as they can once it cuts out, ok?"

"Ok."

* * *

"Three, two, one…" Sam radioed to me.

Then the power was cut.

With the power out, I silently opened the door and went down to the pit. I whispered to the hidden girls to follow me to safety. Once I had them out in the hallway, I radioed back to Sam. "Civilians out, I'm going to replace them down in the pit to get a vantage. Mike- once I'm in my radio contact with Dean is going to be compromised, so you'll need to be his support."

"Copy that." Mike said, "Ordering a uniform evacuation of the civilians, then I'll join Dean on line 2."

I opened the door again and got into the pit.

"Power going up in one, two…" Sam said.

Then the power came back.

"See sir?" Dean said, "Just like I told you, it wasn't going to be long. I'm a man of my word sir."

"Name is David." Spike radioed to Dean, "Single father to Alyssa, deceased and buried two days ago. I'm getting the coroner's report, just hold on."

"David…" Dean started.

"How do you know my name?" David asked.

"Sir, with all due respect, it's what we do, ok? I can tell you're a guy who doesn't want to cause any trouble, so why don't you put down the gun?"

"They need to die- they killed my daughter!"

* * *

"Why do you think they killed your daughter David?"

"They killed her! Their words, their music- they killed her!"

"I have nights on Megan." Sam said over the radio.

Knowing that Sam had night vision on me and could see me, I used hand signals to give him my status.

"Status all ok. Good vantage, and she has the solution." Sam verbalized.

"Hold your fire." Mike said, "Dean, the coroner reports that Alyssa died from a heroin overdose. Jules, I'm sending you a list of the band members that I just got from the drummer I just woke up, look into the histories, and see if there are any connections to Alyssa, maybe there is some truth to the story."

"David," Dean started, "My boss tells me that your daughter- Alyssa died from a heroin overdose. That true?"

"Yeah."

"And you think that they gave her the heroin?"

"No! It's their music- it infected my girl's mind into wanting to use heroin."

The one band member stared to stand up.

"Sir, please get back down." Dean asked him.

"We didn't make your daughter want to use heroin. You say our music infected her mind- in which case that means she had the intention of using all along, whether or not she listened to our music or not. You're just looking for someone to blame."

"Yeah, that's right," David said, as he summed up the courage and pointed his gun at the band member.

"Guys, hold your fire." Mike said, "He says his daughter is his world. That means his world is gone, and be no longer has the will to live- he doesn't have the courage to kill himself, so he wants us to do it."

"Mike, you want to take that chance?" Sam said, "He has his gun on the guitarist at point blank range."

"We have to take him less lethal- we cannot give him what he wants."

"Megan can be on him in seconds and tase him." Sam suggested.

I hand motioned 'Copy that' to Sam, as I switched out my sidearm for my taser.

I ran out from my cover and jumped on top of the stage. I look a quick second to look behind me. Up top I could tell that Sam had my back as Sierra if things went south, and I saw Dean starting to go for his sidearm.

"David- lower your weapon!" I yelled at him, as I started to charge the taser, "Drop it now, or you will be tased!"

Dean jumped up on the stage with his taser in hand.

"Drop it!" Dean yelled.

"David, drop it now! Do it now!"

"Alyssa, I'm sorry." He said, as he started to bring his gun up to his head.

But it didn't get far, because my taser was at its charge point, at which time I fired the leads into his chest. Dean leaped forward and grabbed the falling handgun.

"We need EMTs." I said, as I pulled the uncharged taser leads out of David's chest and flipped him over to get cuffs on him, "Subject secure."

* * *

We went back to SRU headquarters and debriefed. Sam and Mike had already signed their parts, but I was still going over the transcript with Dean.

"Do you know where you escalated him?" I asked.

"Where?" Dean admitted, not knowing.

"When you said, 'I can tell that your daughter meant a lot to you. What was her name?'."

"That's by the book, is it not?" Dean questioned.

"Wrong context."

"What?"

"By saying 'what was her name', you were reminding him that his daughter is gone, something along the lines of 'what is her name' would have been better because it would have given him the illusion that she is still his."

"But that would have been misleading him into thinking that she is alive."

"But sometimes people need to be reminded that even if someone is gone from this world, that they are still a part of themselves."

"Your dad?" Dean carefully asked, not wanting to piss off his team leader.

"I like to think that he is a part of me that is invincible, and that nothing can tear us apart."

"Why'd you want me to do the intervention?" Dean asked.

I smiled. "Because, practice makes perfect. Today wasn't perfect, but it's a good point to build from. You'll have your day."

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? I'm going to continue writing over the holidays, but I'm going to try to be as disconnected from my internet connection as possible, to try to savour the holidays. Hope your holidays are merry and full of joy!**


	4. No Christmas Without T

**A/N: As zombiegirl pointed out, I need a holiday chapter. Yes, it is a bit late, in regards to timing, but whatever. I hope all my readers had a great Christmas and have a prosperous New Year.**

* * *

"Spike, this seems like a bad idea."

"Trust me; he's going to love it." Mike said, as we both stood back to admire our handiwork.

We looked at Dean's locker. We had decorated it with enough garland, Christmas lights and random Christmas ornaments to make a person nearly have a seizure from all the blinking lights.

"I reiterate- this is a bad idea. What happened to the whipped cream in the boots? Or in the vest?"

"Overplayed." Mike said with a smile, "Did we ever haze you?"

"No."

Mike whipped out his cellphone and pretended to type a message, "Note to self- haze Megan."

I gave Mike a dark look, but it was cut short when my cell received a text message from Sam.

"Dean's pulling in." I said, as Sam was our look out, "Lets hide."

We turned around to hide in the showers, but Mike suddenly stopped and took out a tiny video camera, turned it on, and pointed it at Dean's Christmas locker.

"Spike, what are you doing?"

"Youtube." Mike reasoned, "Instant classic."

I rolled my eyes as we hid.

* * *

Witnessing Dean's reaction, which in this case, I'm glad we filmed it. He had just stood there, transfixed for five minutes, and then tried to open the locker next to his, adamant that the decorated locker was not his.

We gathered at the dispatcher's desk, where Jules was sitting.

"What's up?" Mike asked Jules.

"Not much." She replied, as she looked back to see me, Sam and Dean, "Why does Dean's gear have sparkles on it?"

"Because we decorated his locker in a fashion for the season." Mike replied with glee, "I uploaded his reaction to Youtube. I'll email you the link later."

"See you later, Mr. Gator." Came Jules' immediate response.

We all gave her a look of confusion.

"Oh, Kristina is obsessed with a book that has an alligator wearing a tuxedo."

"Sounds like a good book." I said, "Sara might want to borrow it."

Then we all had a moment of awkward silence.

"Speaking of awkward silences, I'm having Christmas dinner at my place Christmas Eve. Megan, I'm hoping you and Sara can come. Anybody else can come too."

"I'm meeting Winnie's parents for the first time Christmas Eve." Mike replied.

"And I'm flying to my parent's condo in Florida that night." Sam piped in.

"Apparently I have yet to have a meal with my dad's girlfriend." Dean spoke, "If I didn't have to eat with them, I'd go."

"Sounds like it'll be just the four of us." I replied.

"Coming back to awkward silences…" Mike said.

I looked up to what Mike was looking at.

"You have to be kidding me Commander- it's the holidays."

The Commander had stepped in with Dr. Larry Toft in tow.

"No joke Team One-" the Commander said, "Pysch evals- Sargent Scarlatti, let's start with you."

* * *

Mike entered the debriefing room with Dr. Toft, who already had his gear setup. Having had to endure Dr. Toft's unorthodox evaluations before Mike asked, "This going to take long?"

"No, I won't keep you long Sargent, I have more pressing matters with the other members of your team."

"Terrific." Mike whispered.

"I need a baseline- two truths and a lie."

"I'm Italian, I've been driving the same car for 16 years, and I think Windows Vista is the best operating system in the world."

"Word association."

"Ok."

"Breakfast."

"Sandwich."

"Gun."

"Fire."

"Bomb."

"Technician."

"Christmas?"

"Beer."

"Christmas beer?" Toft asked, "You sure?"

"Yes sir."

"Ok, moving on." Toft said, as he grabbed a thick file folder, "It's been what, 2 years since Kristopher Perrasmith passed away?"

"More like three."

"Do you find it difficult working with his daughter?"

"No."

"Do you have restless nights?"

"No."

"Strange of you to say that Sargent, because I noticed you have bags under your eyes, and you have a few more gray hairs since the last time I saw you, which was shortly after the death of Mr. Perrasmith."

"I'm not getting enough sleep, because I wake up early, so I can train earlier, so I can start my paperwork earlier. I finish my paperwork early, I don't have to bring it home with me."

"And?"

"And I'm not getting any younger. With all due respect Dr. Toft, but I'm over the whole Perrasmith thing, ok? Yes, it was tragic, yes, I still think about him, especially when I'm talking to Megan, because yes, she is a lot like her father."

"Thank you Sargent, I got all that I need from you."

* * *

"Your name, for the record?" Dr. Toft asked.

"Dean Parker."

"So Dean, how do you like SRU so far?"

"It's good. They treat me alright here."

"How do you like the job?"

"I like it."

"Do you find it hard, difficult even?"

"No."

"Really? Even in the wake of your father, who was the most respected SRU negotiator, and still is?"

"Yes."

"Word association- do you know what this is?" Dr. Toft asked.

"Yes."

"Dinner."

"Plate."

"Fork."

"Spoon."

"Bullet."

"Hole."

"Christmas."

"Spirit."

"As in?" Toft asked.

"As in, what?" Dean questioned.

"Spirit as in the alcoholic beverage?"

"No sir."

"Please, just call me Larry."

"So, your father. He retired because he thought it was his time. Any other reasons?"

"Why don't we stay on track, Larry." Dean stated.

Larry gave Dean a cold look.

"Megan told me that you like to break down people's defenses by talking about simple things, but then you turn around and attack their fault lines."

"Sounds rehearsed." Toft noted, "I suppose Megan told you to mention fault lines, right?"

"No. I came up with that all on my own."

* * *

"Sam Braddock." Toft said, as he sat back down from hooking Sam up to his machines, "It's been a while."

"It has."

"You do remember the last time, right?"

"I do. You want to talk Priority of Life?"

"Not just yet, Mr. Braddock. So you had reapplied to SRU?"

"Yes."

"Given the circumstances, I don't understand why. Enlighten me."

"I needed a job, or I'd be going back to jail."

"So you thought, 'hey, let's get back into policing'. No other jobs came across your mind?"

"No other employers wanted to hire me."

"Really? Not even a restaurant?"

"What do you want me to say, Doc? You want me to say that I'm too good to be waiting tables, or flipping burgers?"

"All I'm saying is that it would be quite ironic to see Sam Braddock, honorably discharged from Joint Task Force 2, Canada's top tier military outfit, flipping burgers."

"Anything else?" Sam asked.

"Scenario- Frosty the Snowman…"

"Frosty the Snowman?" Sam questioned, "Your Christmas reference seems to be a bit shoehorned, don't you think?"

"I'll continue- Frosty the Snowman barges into SRU and is threatening both Megan Perrasmith and Julianna Callaghan-"

"She kept her married name." Sam corrected.

"Stop interrupting me, Braddock- Frosty the Snowman is threatening Megan Perrasmith and Julianna Perrasmith. Who is your priority?"

"I turn up the heat, Frosty melts and everybody is saved."

"Fine- a gun man is threatening Megan and Julianna Perrasmith- who is your priority?"

"I'd go for Megan, I'd guess. She is my team leader." Sam finally answered.

"Interesting. You'd place priority on Megan, over an unarmed woman, in which you previously had a relationship with."

"You didn't say anything about who is armed and who isn't." Sam pointed out.

"Let's get to the root of my question here- would you consider, now that it would be allowable, to pursue a relationship with Julianna Perrasmith?"

"No." Sam answered, "She's a mother."

"And?"

"And she kept her married name- means that she still loves Perra, even in death."

"So you've thought about it?"

"Yeah, I guess I have."

* * *

"Larry."

"Megan."

I stared into Larry's eyes. I told tell he was trying to look into my soul, or something creepy, so I figured I'd do the same to him.

"Baseline- three truths and a lie."

"I love my sister, I'm gay, it's snowing outside, and someone is stealing your car."

"I haven't heard that one before. Word association."

"Bring it." I encouraged.

"Supper."

"Dessert."

"Yearbook"

"Book of lies."

"Sierra One."

"Me."

"Geoffrey Cabe."

I stopped.

"Word association, Megan. Geoffrey Cabe."

I thought about it.

"You're thinking." Toft said, "File number 1076521-the suicide intervention of Julianna Perrasmith."

"That's right." I replied, "File number 1076521 is the suicide intervention of Julianna Perrasmith. Team One responded- consisted of Sargent Greg Parker, Team Leader Ed Lane, Officers Michelangelo Scarlatti, Bradley Mattice and Megan Perrasmith. Intervention was led my Megan Perrasmith while Officers Mattice, Lane and Scarlatti enacted a tactical high elevated suicide rescue. When the intervention proved inadequate the tactical response plan rescued and prevented the suicide of Julianna Perrasmith."

"And why was your mother pushed towards the thought of suicide?"

"Get back on subject Mr. Toft. My mother's psychological profile is not up for discussion. "

"Word association."

"Bring it."

"Eggs."

"Scrambled."

"Christmas."

"Santa."

"Sister."

"Kristina."

"Mother?"

"Julianna."

"Interesting."

"What's interesting?" I asked.

"Julianna Perrasmith is not your mother. Haley McLeod is."

"Haley McLeod is dead."

"Do you know how?"

"My father shot her."

"Is that the reason why you don't consider her your mother? Because, dead or alive, you share DNA with her."

I stood up and took off the wires and gizmos that Dr. Toft had hooked up to me.

"Julianna Perrasmith is my mother."

* * *

I stormed out of the debriefing room. Once out, the entire team descended on me.

"How'd it go?" Mike asked.

I nodded.

"Dean?" I asked. "Was he pissed off when he talked to you?"

"No."

"Sam?"

"I don't know." Sam answered me, "Couldn't care less."

"I hate Dr. Toft." I muttered.

Dr. Toft came out of the debriefing room with his gear back into their cases.

"Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

* * *

**A/N: Not very Christmas-y, I know, but it's the best I could come up with. That and it continues and sets up nicely some psychological story arcs that are either coming up or are in process.**


	5. Insurrection

"Team One- hot call!" Jules yelled over the radio, "Security guard held at gunpoint by an unknown individual- passerby called it in."

Once on scene, we assembled the vehicles as a barricade between us and the situation- which was outside, in minus 26 degrees Celsius weather, with blowing snow all over the place.

We all got behind one SUV. Mike stood, ready with his loudspeaker, while Sam and Dean were ready, firearms in the waiting position.

"Talk them down?" I asked Mike.

He nodded.

"Let's do it. Dean- cover the boss, Sam, you're with me- let's get some tactical options."

* * *

Mike started talking to the armed man. Neither me nor Sam were really paying attention, as the wind was carrying his voice away from us, and we were focused on a tactical solution.

"Slug?" Sam asked.

"Doesn't shoot straight." I said, "Plus, in this weather, we'd have to be right on top of him to hit."

"What else do we got?" Sam asked.

I looked at Sam, "We got one other option."

I opened the door on the SUV and pulled out a special case, and opened it on the seat.

"What is it?"

"Chemical shock round- supposed to reduce the chance of trigger pull."

"Have you used it yet?"

"Not in the field, no."

"How does it work?" Sam asked.

"It's a 7.62 by 51mm precision rifle round- to be shot by our Remington 700 Police Issue. Firing pin hits the primer, ignites the charge, and flies down the barrel- all the normal stuff. Once the round leaves the barrel, it senses the atmospheric pressure change and ejects the top of the round, exposing a needle. It contains a nerve agent that chemically shocks the target- assuming it properly ejects and we can hit a blood vessel."

"What stops it from piercing right through?"

"Low charge- less than what a traditional shock round would contain."

"How do we make sure we hit a blood vessel?"

"That's where the spotter comes in," I continued explaining, "Spotter on thermals would have to pinpoint the hot spots on the target."

"In this weather?" Sam asked, "Good luck finding a hotspot."

"What the hell are you guys up to?" Mike radioed to us, "I'm getting nowhere with this. Security guard was doing his round, when he sees the guy- nobody is supposed to be on the property, so he tells him to leave. Guy pulls the gun."

"And?" I asked, "Talk him down- sounds easy."

"You want to try talking down a mentally estranged man, who is probably having a manic episode?"

"On second thought, never mind." I said.

"Tactical options?" Mike asked.

"We're considering the chemical shock."

"In this weather?" Mike radioed back, "Good luck."

"Alright," I said, giving up on the chemical shock round, "I'll set up a traditional Sierra with lethal- Sam, you set up a Sierra with rubber bullets. You good with this, boss?"

"Copy that Meg- that's why you're the team leader." Mike said, as both me and Sam setup our Sierra shots.

* * *

"Sir," Mike said over the loudspeaker, "Put down the gun, so we can go inside and discuss this further."

"No!" he yelled back, "And keep your distance!"

"Alright, we're not coming any closer sir. How's that hostage doing, Sir?"

"He's good, he's alright."

"Good." Mike replied, "Now I'm going to tell you something- most people they get anxious with a gun in their face, right? How do you think that Security Guard feels right now? Did you know that he's trained in hand to hand takedown?"

"No, I didn't."

"Are you thinking about lowering that gun, then?"

The man lowered the gun.

"Good, thank you Sir." Mike said, "Now, why don't we talk about why we're here?"

"He's sympathetic." I pointed out over the radio, "Sam, be ready with less lethal- we don't want to have to go lethal."

"Copy."

"Sir- what is your name?" Mike asked.

"Brandon- Brandon Hastings."

Mike engaged the radio, "Jules- everything you can find on Brandon Hastings, ok?"

"Copy that." Jules replied.

"Brandon, you're being very co-operative, and I'm going to make sure my superiors know that, ok?"

"Ok."

"Why don't you tell me why I'm here- why my team is here?"

"Because he's an idiot!" Brandon screamed, "Last week he told me I shouldn't be here. Three days ago, I couldn't be here, today- I can't be here- I'm a student here, for god's sake- when am I allowed to be here?"

"Brandon Hastings-" Jules said, "Student at Scarborough Tech, seventeen years old. Parents deceased, living with his aunt and uncle. Want them on the line?"

"Negative- I got what I need." Mike said through the radio, "Brandon- he's just doing his job. You're mad at him for doing his job?"

"I'm pissed off!" Brandon yelled back.

"He's getting aggressive, boss." I observed, "Ready for tactical yet?"

"Yeah, let's do it then, less lethal though."

Sam took the shot.

Dean and Mike ran forward with me taking the rear. Dean comforted the guard, while Mike continued on to Brandon.

Brandon was on the snow covered pavement, trying to reach out for the gun, put it was kicked out from his reach by Mike.

"Don't move." Spike calmly said.

When I got there, I put my cuffs on him. When I got him up on his feet, Jules came up on the radio.

"Team One hot call!"

I quickly took Brandon Hastings over to a waiting police cruiser and put him in the back.

* * *

"Neighbors reporting a domestic disturbance between a husband and wife, house belongs to Sargent Douglas Kirk of 37th division. Neighbors also report that firearms are known to be present within the home."

We pulled up on the side of the street of the home.

"Blueprints?" I asked.

"On your PDAs." Jules responded.

"Great stuff Jules, see if there's any family I can talk to." Mike said, "Megan, get in there and stop Douglas from using those guns on his wife."

"Hard entry?" I asked.

"Harder than hard." Mike replied.

"Got it, Spike." I said.

I got out of the SUV, and with Dean and Sam we approached the front door. Sam made quick work of the door with a quick butt with the door ram.

I entered first and gave hand signals to Dean and Sam. I took straight; Dean took left and upstairs, while Sam took right.

"Anybody have joy?" I asked over the radio.

"Negative." Sam responded.

"I have joy." Dean responded, with a whispered, "Either the tables have turned, or we profiled wrong."

"What's up?" I asked, "Where are you?"

"2nd floor bedroom, first on the left."

"Have they seen you?" I asked, as me and Sam started up the stairs.

"Negative- ears and eyes in 10."

Me and Sam got to Dean's location. By the time we got there, Dean had the eyes in, and was setting up the ears. I looked at the tiny screen.

"Boss, you getting this?" I asked.

"Copy, copy- looks like Mrs. Kirk has the gun on Doug. Jules- how's the family search going?"

"Still going." Jules said.

"I need something." Mike said, "I can't talk anybody down without context."

"Want us to start negotiations?" I asked.

"Negative-" Mike said, "Get a ball camera online, they're moving out of the frame."

"Copy that." I said.

I walked down the hall in the opposite direction and went into the bathroom. Once inside, I took off my bag and assembled the ball camera. Once assembled, I opened the window and got it into position, so the ball was hanging in front of the window in the next room- where Mr. and Mrs. Kirk were.

"Ball cam online."

"I got Amanda Kirk on the line, Mike," Jules said, "Daughter, attending McMaster University."

"Copy that," Mike said, "Patch her through- team pay attention, because it'll probably be one of you doing the negotiations."

"Copy." I replied, as I listened in.

"Amanda Kirk?" Mike asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Sargent Mike Scarlatti, with the Police Strategic Response Unit- do you know any reason why there's a domestic disturbance going on between your parents involving firearms?"

"I don't know. My mom usually keeps them locked up tight."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah, my mom loves guns. She calls herself a gun nut."

"Ok, this may seem like a dumb question, but does she know how to use her guns?"

"Yes, of course."

"No, I mean- does she know how to use the guns to kill somebody?"

The line went silent.

"Amanda?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, well…"

"Amanda, you need to tell me everything you know."

"My mom was in the military."

"Alright- do you know why your parents could be fighting?"

"The last time I was home, my mom told me that she was thinking of leaving my dad because she was sure he was seeing someone else."

"Thank you Amanda, you were a big help." Mike said, as he hung up, "Team, you catch that?"

"Yep," I said, "She's a trained soldier- that stuff never leaves you- intuition, situational awareness- could be why she's paranoid about her husband sleeping around."

"Yeah, and how would you know?" Sam asked over the radio, "Are you trained soldier?"

I was going to say something, but I choked back. It was the first time that Sam had talked back at me.

"Mike," I said, as I regained my voice, "You want us to start negotiations?"

"Negative, she's threat level red- go."

"Copy that." I said, as I returned to Sam and Dean.

"Sam, Dean- on my go." I said, as we readied ourselves.

"Copy." Dean replied.

Sam never replied, but instead, just gave me a quick look of discontent.

I stood up and approached Sam, "Do we have a problem here, Braddock?"

"No, Ma'am." He said, as we got ready, "Copy."

I kicked in the door, and immediately went to cover Sargent Doug Kirk, while Sam and Dean got the gun away from Mrs. Kirk and placed her under arrest.

* * *

After we gained information and took statements and starting to hand over Mrs. Kirk to a regular officer was when the radio came back to life.

"Team One, hot call!"

"You have to be kidding me." Mike said, as I got into the driver's seat, and he got into the passenger's seat, "What is it, Jules?"

"Suicide intervention at Garcia'd'Arc High-School, Danielle Harper- threatening to kill herself."

"Copy that." Mike said, as I drove.

Mike turned off his radio, then mine.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Sam- what's going on with Sam?"

"How do you mean?"

"I think you know, Megan."

To be honest- I don't know. It's like something clicked off and now he hates me because I over-rule him."

"I'll talk to him." Mike said.

* * *

Once at the school, we got out. The principal came to Mike.  
"Sargent, I got the student's information right here, and her mother is on the way."

"Seems like you know the drill." Mike said, as he started leafing through the folder.

"Yeah, we get three or four of these a year. A lot of our students come from rough neighborhoods and don't have good home-lives."

"Do you know what put her up there?" I asked, as I passed my binoculars to Dean, so he could get a better look.

"Her friends are saying that a lot of other girls have been making fun of her."

"How so?" I asked, knowing fully well it'd probably be my intervention.

"Calling her gay, a lesbian- I don't put up with that in my school- especially if it isn't true."

"You don't think she could be?" I asked, ready to defend my sexuality.

"I don't know. One of our counselors has talked to her, though."

"Alright, Meg-" Mike said, "I'll talk to friends and the counselor, and you can talk to Danielle."

"Copy that." I said, "Dean, you'll second the boss, Sam, you're in the truck on intel- see what else could be happening in her life."

"Intel?" Sam asked, "Seriously?"

"Seriously." I said, as I followed the principal to a good location where I could talk to Danielle.

* * *

Before I got into position, Mike radioed to me.

"Ok Megan, here's the jist of things- the counselor says that when she talked to Danielle, she was confused. She thought that maybe the other girls knew something that she didn't and that made her a lesbian. And get this- her parents split up about five years ago when her mother had made allegations towards her father that he was getting some really strange strange on the side."

"Are you saying what I'm think you're saying?"

"Probably- mean's that the subject is a bit taboo at home. Her friends are all straight, other girls are calling her gay."

"The war on homosexuality isn't without insurgents." I replied.

"Yeah. You should be able to connect though."

"Copy that."

I came out.

"Danielle, my name is Megan Perrasmith, and I work with the police Strategic Response Unit. You can call me Megan, ok?"

"Ok." Came Danielle's weak reply.

"Danielle, why are you up here?"

"Because it's easier this way. I don't have to be confused, I don't have to wonder anymore."

"Danielle- being confused, that's part of life. We can all be confused, but it's our solution that makes us who we are."

"Then this is what I am-"Danielle said, "The girl who killed herself."

"Danielle- why do you want to kill yourself?"

She looked at me, "You don't get to hear what they call me! Gay, lesbo, carpet muncher- I'm sick of it!"

"Danielle, this isn't the way to do it. Don't give them what they want. They want to see you suffer, to see you confused. You have to show them that you're strong and that you're better than them."

"Maybe they're right though, maybe I am…my mom- I can't talk about it with her- biggest homophobe I've ever met. My friends- they don't understand."

"I understand Danielle."

"No you don't Megan!" she yelled at me, "You don't know what it feels like to question your soul!"

"Actually, Danielle, I do." I said, "Because it's who I am."

"No, you're just a cop."

"No, Danielle, I'm not just a cop. I'm gay."

Danielle looked at me. "Really?"

"Really Danielle," I spoke calmly to her, "And there's nothing wrong with being that way. It's the way some people are- it's the way I am."

"Do people…"

"Yeah, some people do, Danielle, they do. Because they live in the closeted world where if things aren't just the way they like it, they don't understand- they get confused. Why don't you come down, and we can talk about it some more, ok?"

"Do you still get confused?" she asked me.

"Sometimes, I do." I said, "Sometimes I question myself, and I question other people do too. I ask myself, if I was different, would I have done this differently?"

"And?" she asked.

"And I don't want to answer it- you know why Danielle? Because I like the way I am. I like being this way. I don't care about what other people think."

"Am I gay?" Danielle bluntly asked.

"Danielle…" I started.

"Am I?"

"I don't know. You have to answer that yourself."

"I'm done answering." She said, as she vaulted over the roof line.

But I had jumped with her. I grabbed her failing body with my arms and legs and held it close to my body. The harness cord tensed up, as it reached its end.

"Megan!" I heard Mike yell from the ground.

"I'm ok." I yelled, "We're ok."

"Let's get her down." I heard Mike order Dean and Sam.

* * *

Back at SRU headquarters, we debriefed for all three cases. Once finished, we exited the debriefing room.

"I never want a day like that again." Mike said, as he handed the paperwork to Jules, to ensure that the Commander got it.

"Don't jinx it." Came a female's voice.

I turned to see Sara.

"Sara." I said, as I hugged her.

"Long day?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Then someone needs some extra lovin'." She said, "The car is running, meet you out there?"

"Yeah." I replied, as she went back outside.

"How does that work?" Mike asked, "Off the record, just as friends."

"What?" I asked.

"How does that work?" Mike asked again, "Do you use devices?"

"Au Natural." I commented, before I slipped into the women's locker room.

* * *

Mike entered the men's locker room where Dean had already left, and Sam was just finishing up.

"What the hell was today all about?" Mike asked, as he opened his locker.

"What?" Sam asked, "She told you."

"Yeah. Sam, we're a team. You can be a team player and be part of the team, or you can be just a guy, and go back to jail. Which is it? You pissed because she's team leader? Don't forget that you voted for her."

"Sorry, won't happen again."


	6. Teach Me Pain

"I remember you."

"You remember me?"

"Yeah- I know you."

I didn't know what to say. _How does this woman, who is holding a gun to my head, know me?_

* * *

I walked into the debriefing room and sat beside Dean.

"What's up?" I asked, to nobody specific.

"Three more words." Sam said, "Three more words- and this'll be the first crossword I've finished with no help."

"Paperwork." Mike said, as he shuffled around some papers, "Lots and lots of paperwork."

"But you love it, right?"

"Sure, why not." Mike responded dryly, as I turned to Dean.

"I'm just waiting for someone to tell me what to do." Dean admitted.

I opened up the laptop in front of me, and brought up some intel on a warrant that we're supposed to act on in a week. I brought up the building schematics and maximized them to the screen.

"Give me five good reasons why E3 is a bad entry position."

"I keep on telling you," Mike said, without looking up from his work, "E3 is the one."

"Spike, in this case- no, E5 is."

"Whatever." Mike responded, ending the conversation.

From across the table I could hear Sam muttering to himself, "10 letters, permanence antonym."

"Transience." I quickly stated.

Dean, Sam, and Mike looked up at me.

"Permanence antonym, ten letters- transience." I explained.

Dean and Mike went back to what they were doing.

Sam looked back to his crossword. "Damn, that's it."

I smiled.

"Team One- hot call!" Jules yelled over the intercom.

"I'll guess I'll finish this later." Sam said to me, as we got up.

* * *

"Jules…" Mike started.

"Riot at Queen's Park- public order unit is reporting shots fired."

"We're five minutes out, get Team Five on standby." I ordered.

"Copy that." Jules responded over the radio.

Once we got to Queen's Park, we got out and took cover with the Public Order Unit Sargent.

"Sargent Mike Scarlatti," Mike introduced himself to the Sargent, "Team Leader Megan Perrasmith- what do we got Sargent?"

"Shots fired in the mob." The Sargent said, "I ordered my men back- our shields aren't ballistic and they don't have firearms."

"Understandable." I replied, "Your men holding perimeter?"

"Unit 56 holding perimeter with my guys here and there- detaining anybody who attempts to breach the perimeter."

"Ok- emphasis on people trying to leave. Tell your men to pat down their detainees." I said, "Team One- arrow formation- I'm on point with shields- less lethal only- batons, sprays and tasers."

"Rubber bullets?" Dean asked as he passed me my shield.

"Negative- rubber or live ammunition, you want to throw a charged firearm in there?" I asked, pointing at the angry mob that is being held back by the Public Order unit.

"Good point." Dean said.

"Sargent-" I said to the Public Order Sargent.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Have your men form up behind us- they will detain."

"Copy that." He said, as he started barking orders into his radio.

"Let's go!"

* * *

In formation, we calmly began to walk through the angry crowd. I could tell that our tactics were working, as most of the crowd calmed down and gave us a wide berth once they saw us coming, allowing the PO Unit to detain them.

But there were still a few angry mobsters. I felt something hit my right side. I chanced a quick look down to see a large McDonald's soft drink container empty on the ground. I could now feel the tingling of whatever soft drink was in it on my uniform.

_Good thing it's laundry day. _

I didn't turn to face the thrower of the drink, but instead I continued on.

"How's it going over there?" I asked Dean, who was to my left.

"Going good boss." He replied.

"Megan, watch out!" Sam exclaimed from my right.

I looked forward to see a woman running right at me. She hit my shield- body mass first. She must've had a good amount of momentum behind her, because I staggered back.

Both Sam and Dean came forward to address the rogue female attacker. Sam raised his baton, ready to hit her thigh, but she grabbed his wrist with speed I've only seen in movies, and twisted it, which forced him to drop the baton.

She then turned on Dean, who had his taser at the ready.

"Do not move- or you will be tased!" Dean yelled unconvincingly.

I pulled out my taser. "Do not move! Do not move!" I yelled at her.

Behind me, I could sense Sam regaining his composure, as Mike helped him up.

Instead of complying, the woman kicked out at Dean, which caused him to lean back to avoid the kick. She then turned on me. I still held my shield, although at this point, I questioned its purpose in a hand to hand conflict.

I was almost ready to drop the shield to go hand to hand with the woman, but she drew out a chromed handgun.

"Drop the weapon, and put your hands on your head!" I ordered.

From behind, I heard the distinct sound of gunshots. I didn't dare look back.

"Shots fired, shots fired!" Mike said.

"Fall in, back to back!" Sam instructed, as we all started to back into a defensive circle.

"What do we do?" Dean nervously asked, once we were back to back.

"Do you see your shooter?" I asked Sam.

"Balding white haired man, approximately fifty years of age."

"Boss, Dean and Sam on the active shooter," I calmly said, "I'll be on the woman."

"She has a firearm." Mike pointed out.

"Yeah, good point," I said, "But if she wanted to, she could've shot to harm to kill by now and she hasn't- she's not going to use the gun."

"You sure about that?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure." I responded, "Sam count us down on immediate action."

From the corner of my eye I saw Sam nod, "Immediate action- bravo on active shooter and alpha on single gun woman in three, two-"

On one, I went forward and dropped the shield.

The woman flew a wild side punch to my left. I quickly dodged that, and went in to do a side tuck and tackle- designed to suppress continuing attacks and to assume a detaining position.

Instead the woman backed up. Thankfully, I wasn't too committed to the side tuck and tackle, so I reeled backwards back into a standing position. That left my defenses down, and the woman kicked at me, bringing her leg up fairly high- almost to my eyes. I used this opportunity to hit a pressure point behind her knee with an upward cut of my hand. Her leg immediately twitched causing her to begin falling forward.

Again I backed up; ready to start again a side tuck and tackle. I was so committed to it that I never saw the sweeping side punch to my face and cheek from my right.

Having no anticipation for the punch I felt the entirety of it. I felt dazed, and out of it, during which point the woman grabbed the integrated grab handle the back of my vest and pulled me into the crowd.

* * *

Sam went forward with his shield and taser in hand. He was first to the man who was shooting both into the air and at civilians. Sam figured that the man was no professional with the gun, as he wasn't hitting his targets.

"Drop the weapon or you will be tased!" Sam yelled at him from behind the shield.

"Carrying a .45 1911," Dean summarized both for the purposes of the transcript and to Mike, "Shield will stop it, but it'll dent."

Mike came up beside Sam and started yelling at the man to lower his weapon. Then Dean.

With three people yelling at him the man looked at Sam, Mike and Dean with a puzzled face.

Without pausing, Sam continued yelling at him. "Lower your weapon!"

Finally it was evident that the repeated yelling was doing nothing, and Sam finally fired the leads of the taser into the chest of the man.

Mike engaged his radio, "We need EMS here ASAP, Jules!"

"Five minutes out." Jules responded over the radio.

Dean came forward and kicked the radio out from the man's hand while Sam pulled the electric leads out of the man's chest and put handcuffs on him.

"Subject contained. Megan?"

Sam looked up. The mob seemed to be under control as the Public Order unit had really done their job and began detaining people who remained rioting, or the people just stopped and laid on the winter cold cement in a show of surrender.

"Megan?" Sam yelled out, as he couldn't see her in his line of sight.

Mike turned around to look for her. He engaged his radio, "Megan- please report in."

The radio was silent.

Mike stomped his foot on the ground, and radioed in, "Team Leader Perrasmith is MIA."

Back at the dispatcher's desk, Jules had a face of worry and concern for her step daughter.

* * *

She dragged me along the cement. My world was spinning, as she hauled me inside a building, locked the door and shoved me down onto a chair.

Once sitting, I was starting to regain my composure.

"Black-" I started to say.

I figured the woman knew what she was doing, because she grabbed for my headset and my radio, and threw them a good 15 feet away from me. She held her revolver at point blank range to my forehead.

"Black-belt, I'm assuming?"

"Ninjutsu and taekkyeon, actually." She replied.

"You're good." I commended, "We could use people like you in the force."

"I already did my time, that's why I'm here." She spoke back cryptically.

"Local, provincial, federal?" I asked, "Please, god- you're not a-"

"Shut it!" she yelled.

"What's your name?" I asked.

She looked at me like I was stupid. "You serious?"

"Yes, I am." I replied, in confusion, but I was hiding it well.

"I suppose it makes sense- your mom didn't talk to me much."

"You know my mom?" I asked.

"Yeah, of course I do." She replied, "It's too bad what happened to her, though, right?"

"Yeah of course- it was hard on everyone." I answered, no longer able to hide my confusion, "So, you know my mother- I don't remember you."

"Well of course not- I remember you."

"You remember me?"

"Yeah- I know you."

"When was the last time we saw each other?" I asked.

"Almost two years ago, in this same spot- Queen's Park."

"When did you first meet me?"

She smiled at me, and placed her hand about 3 feet off the ground, "When you were about this high."

"What's your name again?" I asked.

"Leslie- Leslie McLeod. I'm your mom's sister."

_Now this makes more sense._

* * *

The Public Order Unit was just finishing up, as Spike pulled out a laptop from the SUV and put it on the hood of the vehicle.

"We have to find her." Sam said.

Dean came up to them, "Team 5 is sweeping the area, and I sent Megan's snapshot to the PO unit, in case she got mixed in with the detainees."

"Good." Sam said, "Spike?"

"Tracking her GPS right now- just got to download the signal patch, load up the system and type in her device tag, and…"

"And what?" Sam asked.

"According to her GPS, she should be about 30 feet to our left." Mike said.

Dean and Sam ran out and scanned the area. They stopped at 30 feet, which was on the opposite side of the road.

"Mike, it's a dead end- get a trace of her PDA instead."

"It'll take some time." Mike replied, "Why?"

"It's just her GPS unit over here. Nothing else."

"Talk to the detainees," Mike suggested, "Maybe they saw something."

* * *

"Do you want to kill me Leslie?" I asked her.

"I don't know what I want to do yet." She admitted, "She's dead- your mom."

I wanted to lash out for her calling Haley McLeod my mother. To me, Haley McLeod was nothing.

"Your dad killed her, you know? That wasn't part of the wedding vows, now, were they?" Leslie said, "No, I didn't think so."

"I know what happened to her, Leslie." I replied.

"You don't know what it's done to me." She said.

* * *

Dean and Sam stepped off the Public Order Unit's bus that they put the detainees in.

"One person saw a cop dragging a woman into the crowd," Dean said, "One guy swears two women dragged a cop into a building, and another guy tells me that a brunette lady spat in his face and dragged a cop into a building."

"I'm getting more of the same." Sam said.

"Try a little less information, and a little more sense." Mike said over the radio, "Still can't get into the system to triangulate her PDA signal."

"Me and Dean will co-ordinate with Team Five to lockdown and sweep the nearby buildings." Sam said, "Maybe part of the story is true."

"Copy." Mike replied.

* * *

"You want to know?" Leslie asked me, although I doubted she wanted a reply, "I no longer have a sister! Every night I'm haunted by the memory of going to the morgue and saying 'yeah that's her', when all I can look at, is the bullet hole in her head!"

"Leslie, I know, ok?" I tried to reason with her.

"You don't know anything." She cried at me.

"I do." I spoke back, "I'm not so different from you. If I remember right, grand-dad was a Ranger, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, he was a Ranger." Leslie agreed.

"So you felt that you had a duty to serve too, so you joined the military, and served your country. My dad was a cop too, so I became a cop. We both wanted to be perfect in the eyes of our father- we didn't want to let them down."

Leslie was crying. "Yeah, that's right."

"And know what? I'm still not that different from you- you loved Haley, right?"

She nodded.

"I loved my father." I stated.

"Loved?" she asked, choking back her tears.

"I loved him, and I still do Leslie."

"What happened to him?"

"You didn't hear?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"He was killed over three years old Leslie. Ripped from my life- and for a long time, I couldn't get over it, but now I am, and I'm a better person for it."

"You still don't know what it's like to be haunted!" she yelled at me, as she drew back the hammer on the revolver, preparing to shoot the gun, which was still aimed at my forehead.

"Actually I do." I responded, "Two months ago- Younge Street; man took a woman hostage. We couldn't speak with him, he was speaking some European language. He pointed his gun at my Sargent, and I shot him. I did my job- I did what I was hired and trained to do- I shot him. I wasn't wrong in that. But you know what Leslie? Every time I close my eyes, I think of Geoffrey Cabe. I ask myself- why do I get to choose who lives and who dies? What makes me so special? Who gets to make that decision for me?"

"Post-traumatic stress." Leslie said, as she lowered the gun a bit.

"Yeah." I replied, "And the worst part- I have nobody who understands anymore. My stepmom- she nearly killed herself because she couldn't deal with my dad's death and she spent over a year in Mount Royal. My teammate, Sam, he's ex-military, he should understand? No, he doesn't because when he couldn't cope, he drank himself into oblivion, assaulted me and stole my car. The two people who understand- I barely see them anymore- one retired and one is a training officer now. But you, Leslie, you understand, don't you?"

"I do." Leslie nodded.

"So let's put the gun down and get through his together ok?"

Leslie nodded, as she dropped the gun onto the floor. I stood up and kicked the gun away from her as I put her in cuffs. Once she was in cuffs I took out my PDA and sent a text to Mike to let him know I was fine.

* * *

"We were worried for you for a while, you know." Mike said in the debriefing room.

After Leslie surrendered, I walked her outside the building, where the rest of Team One joined up with me. With the help of Team Five and the Public Order Unit, the situation was under control. We came back to headquarters where we started to debrief.

"You were worried for me?" I asked.

"Yeah- your GPS fell off, and the triangulation of your PDA was taking forever to load on this ancient laptop." Mike said.

"By the way," Dean said, as he threw my GPS unit back over to me, "You forgot something."

"Thanks." I replied, as I reattached it to my vest, "I think we're good, right?"

"Can't think of anything else." Mike said.

"Oh really?" came a voice from behind us. We all turned around to see him.

"You don't call, you don't write-" I said, as Ed Lane took a seat across the table from me, "If I didn't know any better I'd think you went K9 on us."

We all laughed. We love poking fun at other police units.

"No, we're just working on something big down at the depot. Megan, you want a demo of some new gear we might start integrating?"

"Sure thing- like what?" I asked.

"SMGs mostly." Ed replied, "How'd your day go?"

"Good." I replied, as Sam, Dean and Mike got up and left.

"You sure?" Ed asked.

I looked around to make sure everybody was out of earshot.

"How do you deal Ed?"

"Deal?"

"The stress?"

Ed smiled, "The same way all long range marksmen do- a Remington on the 500 yard range with a good ten pounds of ammo. Why?"

"It's just- a couple months ago, I shot a guy. I wasn't in the wrong, I did my job."

"Ok."

"But I still wonder- was it the right thing to do? What makes me so special, that I get to decide who lives and who dies- I'm not God."

"No one asked you to play God, Megan. You're human, so sometimes you're going to second guess some of your best decisions."

"Thanks Ed." I replied, as Ed got up and started to leave, "SMGs?"

"Tomorrow, 0600."

"Copy that."


	7. Fatal Attraction

I walked into the SRU headquarters with Sam after we got out of our cars.

"So, how where they?" Sam asked; referencing the demo day I had with some new firearms that the training department was considering adding to our arsenal.

"I told Ed to stop wasting my time." I replied, as I opened the door.

"What?"

"It was a goofy piece- 28 round .45 cal magazines, in what can only be described as a marriage gone wrong between an MP5 and an AR."

"A .45 in an SMG?" Sam asked, as we entered the lobby.

"The manufacturer claims it's the perfect blend between a compact SMG and the versatility of an AR platform."

"They keep coming up with crazy ideas, don't they?" Sam asked.

"Yep." I replied.

"What's next- they want to give us a handgun that shoots a 7.62?"

"That'll shoot your hand off."

"Nah, just leaves it sore- try shooting a TC Contender bolt action pistol in .50 cal."

"Wouldn't want to try that." I said.

"Anything else they let you guys try?" Sam asked, before he stepped into the men's locker room.

"Tried the T97 again."

"And?"

"Shoots like a dream, takes AR mags and much more forgiving with the bullpup design."

"When they going to let that into the field?"

"Don't hold your breath," I said, as I opened the women's locker room, "They still can't convince Colt to manufacture them."

* * *

In the locker room I opened my locker and hung up my washed uniforms and grabbed a new pair of pants and shirt from the opposite side. I took the grey SRU shirt off its hanger and threw it on.

Then the door opened. In came an older blonde woman that I've formerly met once and worked with only less than a half dozen times.

"Hey Donna." I said, as the woman walked to her locker, which was a few down from mine.

"Megan." She said, as she opened her locker. "Tell me something, why do men insist on doing things a specific way when they know it's the wrong way of doing it?"

I smiled as I drew on the pants. "Couldn't tell you." I replied.

"Oh, right- forgot." Donna said, as I could tell her eyes went to a picture of me and Sara I have up on my locker door.

"You guys on duties today?" I asked.

"No- a no-knock warrant down on Kingston. You?"

"Well, Team One isn't on duties, and neither is Team Three- what gives?"

"Who knows?" Donna asked, as I left the locker room.

* * *

After getting dressed, I walked down the hall that leads to the debriefing room. Sadly, a bomb robot was in my way. What made things more depressing is that I know the robot's nickname.

"Hey babycakes." I said.

Mike came out from behind the robot.

"I don't get it." He said, "Team Two used her the other day, and now it's like…"

"Like what?" I asked, faking interest.

"I don't know- going to have to schedule some surgery time."

"Put down the scalpel," I said, "Team One weigh ins in five minutes."

I walked into the gym where Dean was ready to go for his weigh in.

"Dean-" I started.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Want to tell me about the security officials who stopped me as I came out of my apartment this morning to talk about you?"

"What did they want to know?" Dean asked nervously.

"About your personal life."

Dean looked at me cautiously. "It's not what you think it is."

"Ok." I said, as I walked over to the dispatcher's desk to talk to Jules.

* * *

Sam saw Megan talking to Dean. After Megan got up, he went out and sat beside Dean.

"Sam." Dean said.

"Dean." Sam replied, "What was that all about?" Sam asked, "Wouldn't have anything to do with the security officials, would it?"

"She told you?" Dean asked, "She can't keep a secret, can she?"

"You can tell me what it's about." Sam encouraged.

"About a month ago, I started receiving these emails, 'Job Offer'. I ignored them, figuring that my dad worked hard to get me here, right?"

"Sure."

"Anyways, then I start getting these phone calls- from CSIS, whatever that is."

"Canadian Security & Intelligence Service." Sam explained, "Essentially the Canadian version of the FBI."

"Anyways, they start calling me, asking me why I haven't accepted their offer of employment. I told them I didn't want it, that I have a job."

"Good for you." Sam said, "But how does that tie into them asking Megan questions?"

"I don't know." Dean admitted.

"She's a different brand of cop, Dean," Sam explained, "She was essentially hand-picked, like you to be here. Her dad was SRU, and her step-mom is part of the SRU team, she thinks she belongs here and she thinks that anybody who starts with a police unit should stay with it."

"That such a bad thing?" Dean asked.

"No, but don't forget, busting down doors and wearing the cool pants can wear you down- you start thinking if things would be different if you were a beat cop, or something different."

* * *

I noted that the commander had walked into the gym with his trusty weight scale.

"Gotta go." I said to Jules, as I entered the gym.

"Alright, Sargent Mike Scarlatti." The commander said, as Mike stood up on the scale.

"185." The Commander said, as Mike stepped off and Sam stepped on.

"Why do we have to be weighed?" Dean asked.

"Make sure you're keeping in shape." I said, as Sam was finished being weighed and I stepped on, " 'You start hanging out at the donut shop, and we'll know.' "

"Megan Perrasmith, 123." The commander said.

I looked over to Sam, who was trying hard not to laugh. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah- it does." Sam said.

"I learned from the best."

* * *

After the weigh in we all went to the gym to work out.

"Surprised we didn't have to do the drag test." I said to Mike, as I started on a treadmill beside him.

"Drag test?" Dean asked, as he used to towel to wipe sweat off his head.

"It's a relay drag where we drag the heaviest guy across the gym- in which case, would be Mr. Braddock at 205."

"It's mostly muscle." Sam reasoned as he pumped iron over in the corner.

"Doesn't matter, you're still the heaviest guy."

"Team One- hot call, hot call!" Jules yelled over from the dispatcher's desk, "Armed and barricaded at 155632 Steele Avenue, apartment C."

* * *

When we got to the call, the command truck wasn't too far behind. Me and Mike walked over to enter it when Sam and Dean came to me for instructions.

"Recon the building- find us a way in where he won't see us coming." I said before I entered the command truck behind Mike.

Mike sat down and patched the satellite phone to the land phone in the apartment.

"Listen up, I'm calling in." Mike said over the radio.

The phone rang.

"Hello?" came a quiet female voice.

"This is Mike Scarlatti, Strategic Response Unit Sargent- who am I talking to?"

"Marie, Marie-Claude Poirier."

"That's a beautiful name, Marie Claude," Mike said, "Is the man with the gun in the room with you?"

"Yes- all he wants is a clear path out- no cops."

"Tell him I'm working on that, ok?"

Then it seemed like the line went dead, but suddenly a strong male voice came on- "You have 10 minutes before I kill."

Behind Mike, I was writing on the whiteboard. Mike spun around in his chair.

"10 minutes before he kills, doesn't give us much time." Mike summarized.

"He made a demand though- any way we could sell that?"

"I don't want to sell anything just yet." Mike said, "Dean, Sam- anybody have eyes in?"

"Negative-" Sam said over the radio, "Third floor apartment, blinds shut and bars over the windows. No window entry."

"How exposed are the stairs?" I asked.

"Very." Dean replied, "Talking to the super- uploading schematics to the PDAs."

I pulled out my PDA.

"Crawlspace above the apartment has roof access. Dean- crawl in, get in position, and at least get us some ears, and hopefully some eyes."

"Alright." Dean complied, "I'll have it in five."

"Great," I replied, "Three minutes it is."

"I'll call in," Mike said, "Maybe I'll get more information on hostages, specific location and maybe the weapon."

"Copy that." I replied, "Me and Sam will shield up and stay in cover at the stairs ready to breach."

I left the command truck, as Sam came up and passed me a shield.

"Bravo, what's your 20?" I asked, while me and Sam carefully entered the first floor and made our way to the second floor.

"Entering the crawlspace."

"Megan-" Mike started over the radio, "Our hostage Marie Claude tells me that there are two hostages including herself. The man has a handgun- she says it quite big, so I'd guess expect anything .40 cal and up."

"Copy that. Motive?"

"She tells me that he entered her apartment by force."

"Hiding from someone or running away." I guessed, "Dean, we got ears and eyes yet?"

"Eyes online." He commented, "Ears up in 20 seconds."

"Your eyes are good Dean-" Mike said, "Grabbing a snap of the suspect and running it through the database."

"Where are they situated?" I asked.

"Living room- first room when you enter the apartment. Suspect is pacing with the gun pointed at two women, both of them sitting on the couch with their hands interlocked behind their heads."

"On a breach, do we have any barricades or cover?" I asked.

"Negative- you're out in the open."

"How's the deadline?" I asked.

"Three minutes. I'm calling back in. Listen in, see if we can get anything."

The phone rang over the radio.

"Hello?" came the voice of the hostage, Marie Claude.

"Ok, Marie Claude, this is Sargent Mike Scarlatti here, ok?"

"He's saying that you have two minutes before…"

Again the phone seemingly went dead, but then the male came on.

"You're still not gone." He said, "If you're not gone in two minutes, I'll kill your new friend here, Sargent."

"What do you want?" Mike asked, "Are you hiding from somebody? Let us help you."

"You aren't listening _officer- _if you're not gone in one minute, I'll kill this girl, and her blood will be on your hands."

The phone clicked off.

"He's unresponsive to verbal tactics- let's go physical." I said, "We used the distraction of your conversation to stack up at the door. We'll breach and get to the suspect. Dean- explosive entry from the crawlspace-"

"No, no," Mike said, "You can't do explosive entry in the crawlspace, not enough backspace to the charge."

"Shape charge?" I asked.

"It'd be close, I still wouldn't recommend it."

"Alright new plan-" I said, "Alpha on breach- alpha one, Sam will cover suspect, alpha two will be me on the hostages."

"Sounds like a plan-" Mike said, "Get in there, 10 seconds left."

Sam drew out the door sledge and drove it into the door. We were both surprised to find that the door hardly moved.

"You have to be kidding me." I said.

"What?" Mike asked.

"Reinforced door- going in hard."

Both me and Sam lined up and shot out the hinges, and simultaneously, we kicked at the door, causing it to fall.

Once inside the man had his gun drawn on one hostage. He went to pull the trigger on the gun, but it didn't budge.

"Safety's on- Sam!"

Sam understood the direction. He moved forward and tackled the man to the ground. Once on the floor, the man released the weapon, which I easily kicked away from his grasp.

I turned to approach the hostages when I realized that they were gone.

"Mike- hostages, where'd they go?"

"Down the stairs!" Mike yelled over the radio, "Into their car- Megan- they're taking off- tag number Bravo Kilo November Victor Eight Eight Six- Jules we need an APB out!"

"Copy that." Jules replied over the radio.

"Suspect secured." Sam said, as he brought the suspect to his feet.

* * *

Me and Sam took the suspect down the stairs and back outside. Once outside, we started to approach the truck with him, when Mike came out and walked towards us.

"He say anything?" Mike asked us.

"No, he's not talking." I calmly stated.

Mike suddenly walked right up to the man, and purposely stood in very close proximity to him.

"Well, I find that very rude- to barge into someone's apartment with a gun and not tell us why."

The suspect spat in Mike's face.

"Told you he wasn't talking." I said.

"Pat him down." Mike said, as he used his glove to wipe the saliva off his face.

I started to pat down the man, with Mike standing right in front of him. The suspect tried to spit at Mike again, but it didn't have enough range.

Sam walked over to a regular officer and asked him to get a spit shield- a device that is put on a suspect's face to prevent them from spitting at law enforcement.

I was down to the man's pockets, when I found a small bag of a white powder.

"Found something." I said, as I passed it to Mike.

"Who wants to bet this isn't sugar?" Mike asked, "Jules," he said, engaging the radio, "Get forensics down here."

From a distance away, Sam said "Spit shield's here."

Mike grabbed it and started to walk forward towards the suspect, in which time, he spat at Mike again, which landed on his boot.

I unholstered my taser and switched the mode to close proximity instead of firing the two leads.

"You spit at my friend again, you will get tased."

Without problem, the man allowed Mike to put the shield on him.

* * *

Dean came back down from the roof just after we put the suspect into a police cruiser.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, "The hostages flee?"

"Yeah." I said, as we all followed Mike into the command truck.

Once inside, both Mike and Dean sat down.

"Jules, any hits on the APB." I asked over the radio.

"Negative, not yet." She replied, "Some officers have yet to report in though."

"Alright let's expedite then." I said, "Dean on traffic cams with Spike as Bravo, me and Sam as alpha- we head in the same direction as they headed."

"I'll grab a laptop, get into the MOT files, get the model and make, and see if it's equipped with GPS or on-board monitoring systems." Sam suggested.

"Let's roll."

* * *

I wasn't driving for five minutes when Sam spoke up.

"Dean tell you what's going on with CSIS?" he asked.

"Didn't have to." I replied, "Figured it out."

"Really?"

"I'm a smart cookie, what can I tell you Sam?" I asked, before I engaged the radio, "Dean- any hits on traffic cameras?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm working on it." Came his reply.

"According to the Ministry of Transportation records, there's a vehicle in Marie Claude Poirier's name- 1991 Chevrolet Cavalier."

"Too old for a GPS or on-board." I commented, "See if there's any emergency contacts or friends we can talk to."

"Copy that." Sam replied.

* * *

Mike and Dean drove in silence, save the constant clicking of keys on the laptop Dean was using. The silence was killed when Megan radioed in.

"Dean- any hits on traffic cameras?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm working on it." Dean spoke into the radio, "Dean- just do what you do." He muttered.

Mike looked over to Dean for a few seconds. "What's wrong Dean?"

"I'm just sick of being the guy stuck in front of the computer, or the guy putting up the eyes and ears- why can't I be part the team that breaches and does interventions? Is it because I screwed up that intervention at The Zoolander a few months ago?"

"Nah, it's just a rookie thing, Dean." Mike said, "Before long, you'll be busting down doors and talking down crazed psychopaths."

"Alright, I just spoke to a friend of Mrs. Poirier-" Sam said over the radio, "Turns out her ex-boyfriend's middle name is trouble- Jason Mathers."

"And?" Mike asked.

"And this guy- he's been busted for possession with intent to distribute and sell, assault, assault with a weapon- list goes on. Me and Megan are going to stop by to see if he knows anything- for all we know, he could've set this up."

"How does that make sense?" Dean asked over the radio.

"Girlfriend knows too much about your operations, you think she's going to blab to the police, so he sends one of his dealers to take her out." Megan explained.

"Copy that, keep us posted." Mike replied.

* * *

Me and Sam got to Jason Mathers residence. Sam used the door sledge on the door, and this time it worked- the door fell in with one hit.

Once inside, I immediately saw Mr. Mathers try to grab for something in the back of his pants. Sam immediately shoved him back onto the couch and grabbed the handgun that was concealed in his pants.

"Would you look at that-" Sam said, "Matches the gun at the other scene."

Sam passed me the gun to examine, "Large framed 1911, shooting a .40 caliber bullet at over 1100 feet per second. Tell me Mr. Mathers- you send someone to kill your ex-girlfriend Marie Claude today?" I asked.

"I didn't kill anybody." He answered.

I looked around the apartment and sighed. My eyes fell upon a nice guitar that laid on the coffee table.

"Nice guitar Jason," I said, as I picked it up "You mind?"

I walked away from the suspect, while Sam continued questioning him.

"Dean- can you look up some ownership numbers?"

"Roger that." Dean answered over the radio.

"One One six, two four three, eight eight, sixteen Tango Romeo Charile."

"Running the number." Dean replied.

"Does he get to say bingo?" Mike asked.

"Only if its good news."

"The cream colored Les Paul guitar was reported stolen a month ago from The Money Man pawnshop." Dean answered.

I walked back over to Sam and put the guitar back where I got it.

"The guitar was-" I started.

"Look, I don't know where she is, ok?" Jason spoke up, "All I know is that she showed up here yesterday wanting a gun. I'm not stupid, I didn't give her one."

"You interrupting my friend here?" Sam asked him.

"The guitar was reported stolen a month ago."

"Congratulations, Jason Mathers, come on down." Sam said, as he grabbed him and put a set of handcuffs on him.

"I didn't do anything, ok." He stated.

"Give it a rest man- you're in possession of stolen goods. You want me to search the registry for that gun you tried to pull on us? You want me to add possession of a stolen firearm to your charges?"

"Look," Jason said, as Sam was guiding him out of the apartment, "Can you at least tell MC that I love her?"

"Nope." I coldly stated.

* * *

"You guys get anything from Jason Mathers?" Mike asked.

"Not much-" Sam answered, "Other than that she showed up at his place yesterday wanting a gun. CCTV footage in the apartment lobby backs it up."

"She didn't get a gun from him, but we have to assume she's armed." Megan said over the radio.

"Team One-" came Jules' voice over the radio, "OPP reports tag Bravo Kilo November Victor Eight Eight Six travelling eastbound on the 401."

"Copy that." Megan said, "Bravo, what's your twenty?"

"We're at Markham and Progress- we can be on the highway in less than a minute." Mike replied.

"Copy that Jules," Megan said, "Tell the OPP to back off and wait for SRU- subject is considered armed."

* * *

Me and Sam got into the SUV and raced towards the 401 highway.

"What's the plan?" Sam asked, "Highway is a containment nightmare. Can't use road spikes, can't do a rolling roadblock.

"There's one way." I said, as I came to a stop alongside the turn on that turned onto the highway.

I got out, and Sam got out of the vehicle too.

"What's the plan?" Sam asked.

"We mount the Umbrella on the front, hook it into the winch system. When we get into range, you can fire the Umbrella remotely from inside the truck. The umbrella will tear through the sheet metal and plastic and deploy the arms. Once it's in, I stop the truck completely. That car- the Chevy Cavalier, it only has a small inline four engine, and it won't be able to pull itself and the weight of our truck at the same time."

As I explained it to Sam, he helped me set it up. Once we had everything mounted, we turned onto the highway.

"I see the target." I said over the radio, "Bravo, where are you?"

"Right behind you." Mike radioed.

"Ok, on my go Bravo will be the distraction, on the center lane. Alpha will approach from behind and deploy the Umbrella and begin deceleration. Bravo will keep pace with the target. Once we've come to a stop, Bravo will be first on target, and alpha will be your cover. Jules- send uniforms to close and cover interchanges 383 to 387."

I started to speed up the vehicle, approaching the target vehicle.

"Go, bravo go." I directed.

Bravo unit darted out from behind our vehicle and raced up to the target vehicle and kept pace. I used the distraction of Bravo to get closer without the target vehicle noticing.

"Deploy the Umbrella."

From the passenger's seat, Sam pressed a button on a control device that fired the Umbrella tool, which imbedded into the plastic bumper and the carbon steel of the truck of the vehicle, and self-deployed a series of arms that would prevent the tool from coming out.

"Beginning deceleration." I stated.

I moved the gearshift of the SUV from drive into reverse, and continued giving the vehicle gas, as to pull the target vehicle, assisting in the deceleration.

Once the speed of the target came to an almost crawl, I put the gearshift into park.

Mike and Dean stopped their vehicle and jumped out and got to the target vehicle. Me and Sam got out and pointed our MP5A3, fully automatic weapons at the target.

I saw Dean pull the driver out of her seat, as he forced her up against the car and put cuffs on her. Mike did the same with the other woman.

Once we were sure neither Mike or Dean needed to be covered, me and Sam approached them.

I came up to Dean and his subject.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

"Marie Claude." She answered.

"Marie Claude, we were just trying to help you, ok? Why'd you run?"

"We…panicked."

"Have any weapons on you?" I calmly asked.

"I…I got a Glock from a guy down on Queen this morning."

I managed a quick look over to Sam who shook his head.

I turned back to Marie Claude, and grabbed her by the cuffs, "Marie Claude Poirier, you are under arrest for possession of a restricted weapon without license. Anything you say and or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to legal aid, upon transfer into Toronto Police Services Jailhouse. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Do you understand?" I asked again, as I need a verbal agreement.

"Yes." She replied, as I turned her around to face me again, "Look, I…I just felt like something bad was going to happen, that's all."

* * *

**A/N: I figured this is a good sized update, eh? Yeah, I know, I've been neglecting this fiction, and to be honest- I have no good excuse, other than the fact that I'm lazy and I've been focusing on my original works of literature, which I'm hoping to self-publish in both e-book and physical copies.**

**Also- I'm running out of names to use for people in my fictions, so if anybody is interested in having their likeness in my fiction, give me a shout in either a review or a PM.**


	8. Chaos Theory Part One

"Good choice of cover." I said sarcastically to Dean.

"I'm hit." He replied.

"I know. They know where I am, so we gotta move ok?"

"Who are they?"

"I don't know." I said, "Sam and Mike are gearing up- can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think so."

* * *

Sam purposely came into work early. He had been coming in early for the past week. Team One was on afternoons, and Jules Perrasmith, the SRU dispatcher was on the dayshift.

After getting dressed into uniform, he walked out to the dispatcher's desk.

"Hey Jules." He said with enthusiasm.

"Hey Sam," Jules replied, "You're early…again."

"Better early than late, right?" Sam asked with a smile.

Jules smiled back at him.

"Hey Jules, I was wondering…" Sam started.

"Megan wants to see you." Jules interrupted, as she pointed to Megan waiting for him, in the door frame of the debriefing room.

Sam sighed, as he walked over to Megan. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Megan asked.

Sam sat down.

"Sam," Megan started, "You're a good guy. You're like a friend to me…"

"What's going on?" Dean asked, as he entered, full of energy.

"Dean- do you mind?" Megan asked.

"Sorry." Dean replied, as he left and made his way to the gym.

"Sam, I see what you're doing with my mom." Megan stated.

"Doing?" Sam asked, "What exactly am I doing?"

"You're flirting with her."

Sam was taken back. "So what?"

" 'So what' Sam?" Megan asked, "That's my mother."

"Megan, you know that I've been attracted to her for a long time."

"Honestly, Sam, I don't care- ok?" Megan spoke back, "She's off limits."

From the hallway, the sound of automatic gunfire rang out, with Mike running towards us, still in his civilian clothes, and with his bag slung over his back.

"Get down, get down!" Mike yelled, as he ran into the debriefing room.

"What the hell is going on?" Megan asked.

"SRU-" Mike started, as he was catching his breath, "SRU is under attack."

* * *

I took Mike's words seriously.

"Mom- get down!" I yelled over to the dispatcher's desk.

From across the room, I saw her dart underneath her desk. Seconds after she took cover, a series of bullets collided with the wall behind the desk. If my mom would've still been there, she would have surely been killed.

Sam pulled out his sidearm, as I pulled out mine.

"Alright-" I said, taking control of the situation, "We are separated from our equipment. Boss, stay here- me and Sam on full extraction of Jules from the dispatcher's desk; Sam you're lead, and I'll cover."

Sam readied his handgun, as we carefully exited the debriefing room. We pointed our firearms in the direction of the foyer.

"Tango to our right," I yelled to Sam, "I'm suppressing, Sam- get to cover!"

I fired several rounds to the man I could see, although none hit its mark, it was enough of a distraction to allow Sam to get to cover behind the desk.

"You're covered- move!" Sam directed.

I followed in the same direction that Sam took and got covered by the desk.

"Mom, you ok?" I asked, as me, mom and Sam where crouched and crowded behind the desk.

"Yeah." Jules replied, as she took a short barreled shotgun from clips from underneath the desk, "Never thought I'd have to use this."

"Spike, you're covered!" Sam yelled over to the debriefing room, while he used his handgun to suppress several armed men starting to approach the desk.

The distraction was just enough for Mike to bound out of the debriefing room, and vault over the desk, landing in a crouch.

"Who the hell attacks a police station?" Mike asked.

"They look like Special Forces." Sam guessed, as he crouched back down.

"Alright," I nodded, "We need to arm up. No way we're getting past them to get to our equipment cage, so we're going to have to go down to the basement and arm up in the training department."

"Me, Megan and Mike should cover Jules to the basement." Sam suggested, "But we got to move now."

Jules gave Mike the shotgun with a no protest. In a triangular protective formation, myself, Sam and Mike rose from our crouched location and walked backwards, covering Jules to the basement steps.

Once there, we took cover, only to find Donna and Team 3.

"What's going on?" Donna asked, "We were about to start a drill on the range…"

"Someone's attacked SRU." Mike explained, "Donna- are your guys fully equipped?"

Donna nodded.

"Good." Mike replied, "You guys hold here- make sure nobody gets past you. We're going to the training department to get suited up."

"Alright."

"Uh oh…" I said aloud.

"What?" Mike asked.

I could tell Sam understood.

"Dean- where's Dean?" Sam asked.

* * *

_Damn._

"Alright." I said, "Sam, Mike, get to training, I'm going to get Dean, I'm pretty sure he went to the gym."

"No, Megan," Mike reasoned, "Let Team 3 do it."

"Boss," I yelled back, "You said it yourself- Team three needs to hold tight here, and make sure they don't get down to the basement. Contain on the first floor."

"Alright, fine." Mike retorted, as he looked down my handgun, which was still in my hand, "But you're not going out there with just the Glock."

"Give me your MP." I demanded of the stocky guy from team three. He quickly surrendered the gun to me, and I quickly checked that a round was in the chamber, and that the magazine was full, "See you downstairs." I said to Sam and Mike, as they continued down the steps, as I stepped out from the concealed cover.

I chanced a look over to the dispatcher's desk. Three men- armed with standard military carbines and wearing digital camo fatigues stood over the computer at the desk, while another two were busy placing C4 explosive charges on the wall adjacent to the foyer.

_What the heck?_

Thankfully, they didn't see me, and I carefully made my way along the wall, to the small set of steps that lead into the gym.

Forgoing the use of the steps I jumped the three steps onto the carpeted floor. Knowing that my jump probably made noise, I landed and vaulted behind the next wall to cover myself.

I heard footsteps of one man coming closer. They did hear me. I counted the steps, and leaned the MP5 against the wall.

I jumped out and grabbed the armed man, and pulled him close to me, using him as a human shield from his comrades. With my trained precision, I wrapped my hands and arms around his throat and begun a sleeper hold- a certain style of headlock that wouldn't kill him, just knock him out.

As soon as he was out, I darted back behind the wall, and dropped his body. I heard bullets whizzing by me, none of them hitting me. Thank god for the wall.

I picked up the MP5 again and scanned the gym. Over in the far corner, I saw Dean nursing a leg wound that was bleeding pretty well.

I issued hand signals to Dean to suppress and cover me. Using the distraction, I made my way to Dean, who had taken cover behind some foam mats.

"Good choice of cover." I said sarcastically.

"I'm hit." Dean said.

"I know. They know where I am, so we gotta move ok?"

"Who are they?"

"I don't know." I said, "Sam and Mike are gearing up down in the training facility. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think so."

I helped Dean to his feet, when we started getting shot at, so we had to take cover.

"That's odd." I thought aloud.

"What?"

"Sam thought they might be Special Forces, but they're not hitting their targets."

"Maybe they're hoping to…."

Suddenly a flashbang went off between us and the men shooting at us. Whether it was set off by them or Team Three, I hauled Dean up and used it as a distraction to fall back to the administration hallway. Once there, I grabbed my swipe card, and swiped in and Dean opened the door. Once we were in, I shut the door.

"We're good." I said.

"For now." Dean said, "We should get to the basement."

* * *

I helped Dean walk down the administration hallway, where we encountered some administrators and informed them to stay in their office until they are approached by an SRU officer. Once to the steps, we met up with Sam, Mike and Jules- they had all geared up.

"Admin secured." I said, once we all got back to the basement, were I started gearing, "Sam, you think these guys are Special Forces?"

"I saw the patch on their fatigues, so yeah." Sam replied.

"It doesn't make sense then." I said, as I finished buckling up my vest and started loading it up with magazines for the MP5, "They've had plenty of opportunity to kill, and no fatalities."

"That we know of." Mike said, "They could've tagged in the locker rooms. Jules?"

"Negative." Jules said, as she lifted her eyes from the laptop on top of a nearby bench, "Team 3 and Team One is accounted for- Team Six was also scheduled for duty, but I just got off the phone with their Sargent- none of them have left their houses yet."

"We should keep it that way." Sam suggested, "Less bodies to be hit."

"Sounds like a plan." I agreed, "We have to assume that they've breached our equipment cages and are using SRU gear too. They came with C8 carbines, I saw them when I was extracting Dean."

"Again, military." Sam responded.

"I also saw three of them goofing with the dispatcher's computers. We should assume they've hacked our mainframe and are monitoring CCTV and radio frequencies."

"Good thing we don't have CCTV down here then." Dean stated.

"I'll see if I can get into the server and shut down the CCTV system remotely." Mike said, as he worked on the same laptop that Jules was just using.

"I also saw them placing C4 charges on the walls up near the foyer. Trying to box us in?"

"If that's the case, they didn't do their homework." Sam said, "Basement goes right to the shoot house out back."

The same Team Three member I had taken the MP5 from ran into the room.

"Ted's got a snake camera online." He said.

I threw the man's MP5 back over to him, as I grabbed one from the wall rack, "Tell them to get that cam offline, they've hacked into the mainframe. Maintain your barricade!"

The man took off, back from where he had come from.

"Alright, we need tac options." I said out loud, "Never thought I'd be planning tactical for the barn."

"Megan." Came a voice from over the in far corner.

I looked over to see who it was. I recognized the man in the middle of the trio, but not the other two.

"Training Officer Lane reporting for duty." Edward Lane said, as he racked the action back on his MP5.

* * *

"Me, Sam, Mike, Ed, Jules, and Dean." I said, counting the people we have on hand.

"Also TO's Viktra and Scott." Ed said, as he introduced the men beside him.

"And all of team three." Mike added.

"Ok, let's put our heads together," I said, to Sam and Ed, "Between us, we should be able to figure something out."

"We need to hold the basement." Ed suggested, "You said that they probably breached the equipment cages near the locker rooms, so we do not want them to get down here, and get even more equipment."

"That makes sense," I agrred, "Jules, Viktra, Scott- head up to the end of the administration hallway near the gym and hold the administration hallway leading to the basement if they attempt to breach the hall. Take smoke and thermals. If they breach, smoke them and eliminate on thermals."

"I'll stay here and run a command post." Mike interjected.

"Good idea, Spike." Ed nodded, "This room will also be triage if we need it."

"How long you planning on being here Ed?" I asked, "Triage areas? This isn't a warzone."

"But those soldiers are from a warzone." Sam explained, "Urban Warfare 101- fatigue the enemy. They'll prolong this as long as possible and attack when we're weak."

"Alright, if we have to- we work on shifts." Ed said, "Team Three is Alpha One- Jules,Viktra, and Scott are Alpha Two. Me and Sam will grab binoculars and get a vantage from the top of the shoot house."

"Where do you want me Ed?" Dean asked.

"Dean, buddy," Ed replied, "You've been tagged pretty good. Megan will assist Spike…"

"It's _Mike…"_ Mike corrected Ed.

"Megan will assist Mike in setting up a command post, after that, Megan, get to Dean."

"Copy that."

* * *

Jules, Viktra and Scott left to hold the administration hallway and the second entrance to the basement. Ed and Sam gathered some additional gear and left for the shoot house, where they would try to gather intel.

I helped Mike in setting up command post. We already had one laptop running with an auto-transcriber, although its use limited, as we don't have radios. I grabbed one case, opened it and booted up a laptop like system that would tap into networks, and had it working on searching for breaks or hacks in the local SRU server network. Mike got another laptop and was trying to find a nearby wireless internet connection that he could latch onto, create a VPN to the Toronto Police Services Intranet System and get it ready to send out an all call if we need help.

After that, I turned to Dean's attention. He had already cut away his own pants to expose the wound. I grabbed a nearby medi-kit and applied a clean gauze bandage.

"How is it?" Dean asked.

"Not as bad as I thought it would be." I admitted, although it wasn't clotting up, "You have a blood disorder Dean?"

"Why?"

I grabbed more gauze and replaced the original. "You're not clotting. Mike?"

Mike turned to address me. "What?"

"We need to get a tourniquet on him."

"No, no, no, please no." Dean reasoned.

Mike crouched down on the other side of Dean, as he started to get a tourniquet ready.

"No, no, no, no…" Dean stammered.

"Dean-" I said to him with a raised voice, "Keep it together man. Yeah, it's going to hurt like hell itself is living inside your leg, but we need to stop the bleeding."

Dean stopped protesting our actions, as he relaxed his body, ready to accept the tourniquet.

As we tightened it around his leg, he screamed. It was the loudest screams I've ever heard in my life.

* * *

As Ed and Sam ran down the tunnel towards the basement of the shoot house, they could hear Dean's screams. As they came to the steps to the first floor of the shoot house, they could still hear them.

"What is she doing to him?" Sam asked aloud.

"She knows what she's doing." Ed reasoned, "Let's go."

Together, they bounded up six flights of stairs to the roof of the building. Once up top, they grabbed their binoculars and scanned the area.

"Blinds have been drawn- can't see in." Sam reported.

"Same here." Ed said, "But I got two license plates of two vehicles out front that they probably came in- Bravo Hotel November X-ray, five-oh-niner and Bravo Lima Alpha Kilo, Zero Three One."

"Got it." Sam said, as he wrote down the information in his notebook, "Hey Ed."

Ed lowered his binoculars, "What?"

"Megan told me that Jules is out of bounds."

"And she should be."

"What?" Sam asked, "Thought you'd be on my side."

"Sam-" Ed said, having a heart to heart with the man," My wife died. I'll never replace her, because I loved her with every fiber of my body. Perra and Jules were very close. You'll never break that bond."

Sam squinted from the setting sun. "I was hoping she would."

Ed looked over to Sam. "You have to be kidding me Sam- nearly 40 years old, and you're acting like you're in junior high and you're doing after the girl who just got dumped. Her husband died Sam."

"We should get back." Sam suggested, derailing the conversation.

* * *

**A/N: Epic, right? Stay tuned for the next part of this two part chapter! Also- write a review for god-sakes! I'm not going to continue ****writing if I don't think people are reading. That being said, updates are probably going to be few and far between, as I'm currently working on getting my business off the ground and I honestly want to start writing and posting my long planned **_**The Big Bang**__** Theory **_**fanfiction- **_**The Nebraskan Coupling.**_

**And finally, because I'm nice, here's a quick excerpt from Part two of Chaos Theory-**

_I took a clean piece of gauze from the nearby medi-kit and started replacing the gauze from the wound. It was still bleeding._

"_I don't get it Dean, I really don't."_

"_What?" he asked._

"_No, please, Megan-don't." he pleaded._

"_He's still bleeding." I explained, "I have to tighten the tourniquet."_

_As I continued tightening it down, Dean screamed out again, and when the pain became too much for him, he passed out._


	9. Chaos Theory Part Two

"Alpha Three, are you in position?" Ed asked.

"Alpha Three in position." Sam voiced.

"Alpha One in position. How's your vantage Zulu One?"

"Ready."

* * *

I'm tired. I'm hungry. Nevertheless, I am here.

I stand at the barricade at the first basement entry. Me, Mike, and Viktra are holding the barricade.

We wouldn't need the barricades if this wasn't happening. We wouldn't need the barricades if armed ex-Special Forces, (according to Sam) wouldn't have stormed the SRU building.

But they did, and here I stand. Myself, Mike and Viktra are Alpha One at B1, while Ed, Jules, Scott and Donna are Alpha Two at the second barricade, or B2- at the end of the administration hallway where it butts up to the gym.

No wonder I'm tired. We've been doing this for ten hours. Every time we try advancing they use smoke grenades and fire into the smoke, hoping to hit us. We'd be fine if we had shields, but we don't. We might also be able to advance if we had more thermal goggles- we only have two pair, and we're keeping them at the second barricade, as a tactical plan, in case the barricade gets breached.

"Megan." Came a voice from behind me.

It was Jamie from Team 3, who was resting down in the basement, in our makeshift command post and resting area.

"What?" I whispered back to him.

"I think you should look at his leg."

* * *

Jamie took my place, as I returned to the resting area, which is usually the training department. Team 3's Technology Officer sat behind an array of monitors that was command post at a bench, while the rest of the team had found chairs and sat in a semi-circle off in one corner.

Lying on the floor, with his hands cuffed behind his back was Dean. In the early moments of the raid on the SRU building, he had taken a bullet in his leg. I had performed first aid to him, but his wound hadn't clotted yet, so we had to apply a tourniquet. I can still hear Dean's screams in my mind as me and Mike had tightened it on him.

"Dean." I said, as I crouched to his left.

"Can you uncuff me?" he whined, "I won't try it again."

We had to cuff him, because he had tried to take off the tourniquet.

I took a clean piece of gauze from the nearby medi-kit and started replacing the gauze from the wound. It was still bleeding.

"I don't get it Dean, I really don't."

"What?" he asked.

"The tourniquet should be restricting blood flow, and it's still bleeding and not clotting. I'm going to have to…"

"No, please, Megan-don't." he pleaded.

"Hey-" I yelled over to the officer at the command post, "Hold him down."

The officer came over and pinned Dean to the concrete. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"He's still bleeding." I explained, "I have to tighten the tourniquet."

As I continued tightening it down, Dean screamed out again, and when the pain became too much for him, he passed out.

* * *

I sat beside Dean. I didn't feel like conversing with Team 3.

Suddenly two of them got up and left in the direction of the administration hallway barricade.

Minutes after they had left, Ed and Jules walked in.

Ed walked over the command bench, while Jules sat down beside me.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I'm tired mom."

"We all are." Came her comforting reply, "Dean?"

I looked down to make sure he was still knocked out, "The bleeding won't stop, I don't know why. I can't tighten the tourniquet any tighter than it is."

"The skin is grey." Jules said, as she looked down at Dean's exposed leg, below the tourniquet.

"That part of the leg is dying. His system is now creating potassium in his lower leg, below the tourniquet. If the potassium makes its way to his heart…"

"It's bad news." Jules finished.

"Ed," I called over to him, "Are we going to do anything about this? We're tired, we're hungry-"

I looked around and lowered my voice, "And if Dean doesn't get medical attention soon, he's either going to lose the leg or his life. And the last I checked- you're a training officer, not a team leader."

"Ok," Ed said, "What do we do, Team Leader?"

Ed's question took me back. I hadn't thought of that.

"I…"

"Exactly." Ed said, "It's not as easy as you think when it's the lives of your co-workers on your shoulders, right? Now- I have a plan-"

"Let's hear it."

"Ok- " Ed started, "They're dug in near the barricades, so they're expecting attacks from there. We take two or three of our guys and climb the rear ladders and get into position above the front foyer windows. We signal to the barricade teams to distract. With that distraction, we rappel down into the foyer, neutralize the C4 charges they've put on the walls and neutralize the men."

"We should consider taking them less lethal- find out why they did this."

"Megan-" Ed started.

"Yeah, I know." I replied, "The time for kid gloves is over."

"We're also going to need cover fire from the top of the shoot house in case things go sideways."

"Sounds like we need everyone."

Ed looked down to Dean. "We do."

"Ed, seriously?"

"Seriously."

Ed started to walk away, but I followed me, "Ed."

"He can lay cover fire." Ed commented.

"He's in pain, and the pain is literally creating short circuits in his brain. The pain receptors in his body are overloading, and the synapses localized in his brain could cause muscle spasms, euphoria, and memory loss; you want a person like that covering your back?"

"Wake him up." Ed calmly stated, "We need to end this."

* * *

The plan was set. Ed, Sam, Mike and Donna geared up and silently extracted from the SRU building at the back and climbed onto the roof and got into position. Inside, at the first barricade, were Training Officer Viktra and two Team 3 officers. Scott and the rest of Team Three were to hold the second barricade.

Jules stayed back in the basement and ran command post. Not only that, we had to use radios to synchronize our actions, so Jules was also going to run a network hack that Mike had quickly created that would encrypt one radio channel for our use. The problem and fatal flaw was that the attackers could easily reverse the encryption and listen in on what we're saying.

The latter posed a problem, so Sam thought of a creative solution. He figured that they think we've labeled our barricade teams as Alpha and Bravo, so Ed, Sam, Mike and Donna were going to call themselves Alpha One through Four, tricking the attackers into thinking we've split up our barricade team.

It took some time, but me and Dean got into position on top of the shoot house. It was starting to rain, which turned into a light now. Instead of referring to me and Dean as Sierras, which we normally would, Sam thought we should be Zulus- a military nickname that they use to call crazy, armed insurgents.

Everything was going to plan.

I voiced into the radio, "Bravo unit, this is Zulu One- what's your status?"

Over the radio Scott replied, "Zulu One, Bravo is A-ok."

"Copy that Bravo."

From across the roof and over the radio, I heard Dean's weak voice speak, "Zulu two to Alpha, please advise."

"Alpha is clear sir." Alpha unit replied.

"Alpha Three, are you in position?" Ed radioed.

"Alpha Three in position." Sam voiced.

"Alpha One in position." Ed informed, "How's your vantage Zulu One?"

"Ready." I replied.

"Alpha Two in position." Mike responded.

"Alpha Four ready to go." Donna signaled, "Zulu One- do you copy?"

"Alpha Four, I copy. What's you're read?"

"I read clear."

"Bravo-" Dean asked, "How do you read?"

"Clear."

"Alpha?" I asked.

"Alpha reads clear ma'am."

"Copy that." I said, "All units please be advised, the system is down."

The phrase, 'the system is down' is our action phrase.

Through the scope, I saw Ed and Sam vault down and break the windows. Immediately, I could tell they were taking fire.

"Alpha One and Three taking fire Zulu One." Ed radioed.

I racked the bolt back, and forward, loading a round. I lined my crosshairs to a target.

"Target eliminated Alphas One and Three."

From there, I saw Ed and Sam leave my field of vision.

"Two down Zulus." Donna spoke up, "Alphas two and four are neutralizing the package."

That meant that both Donna and Mike were working on neutralizing the C4 charges.

"Three down Zulu One." Sam said, "We have two fortified targets. We need backup!"

"Copy that Alpha Three." I replied, "Alpha, Bravo- move forward and neutralize."

The radio went dead for a couple of minutes.

"All targets down." Came Viktra's deeply Russian voice.

"Copy that Alpha." I replied, as I lifted by head from the scope, "Good job SRU Team One, Team Three, Training Officers Ed, Scott and Viktra. Hat tip to dispatcher Julianna Perrasmith."

* * *

The station was a mess. EMS was quickly on scene. Me, Mike and Sam carried Dean to a waiting ambulance. Once there, Mike turned to greet the SRU Commander with Ed and Jules.

I couldn't make our their conversation, but the commander was shaking their hands and nodding. Probably giving them praise for their actions.

"Donna, Megan!" the commander called out.

Me and Donna ran up to greet the commander.

"Commander Hollerand." I curtly responded.

"You guys did a good job today, if the accounts of Lane, Scarlatti and Perrasmith are to be believed. You and your teams have been at this for a while, you'll be attending at St. Simon's hospital to get checked out and to get doses of fluids to combat your dehydration."

"Copy that." I replied, as teams of paramedics swarmed us all, and brought us to their ambulances to be brought to the hospital."

* * *

Once at the hospital, sat on a chair outside a room, where I was scheduled to get my injection of fluids. The dehydration was setting in. I'm getting cramps, and it's nearly impossible to sit up straight.

I shut my eyes for a few seconds. When I opened them, I found Greg Parker standing in front of me.

"Megan." He responded.

"Greg-" I started, "How's Dean?"

Greg looked me in the eyes and started to walk away.

"Greg…Greg!" I yelled out, although I could tell he was ignoring me, or at least trying to, "I'm sorry!"


	10. I've Got a Feeling

**A/N Alright, so sadly I have to do this. I'd like to say I wasn't forced to, but that isn't the truth.**

**As an author of this fiction, I do not condone any of the criminal activities depicted.**

**Again, this fiction is rated T for Teen, and I typically use the rating to its full extent in most cases. Reader's discretion is advised.**

**Also, I've recently received a PM concerning the 10-codes and other policing codes. I know quite a few of t****hem myself, as I use them at work, but for the purposes of the story, I'm going to use the list that is available online here - **** . **** Now you don't have to fe****el out of the loop!**

* * *

"You like that, don't you?"

"Get off of me, knucklehead!"

"Don't talk to me like that."

* * *

I was panting hard. _The exhilaration, the excitement._

Sitting up, I drew the thin sheet around my chest, as I started to put on my slippers.

"Oh, what's that?" Sara asked, as she gingerly caressed a tender spot on my bare back.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A bruise." Sara said with a smile, as she came up from behind me and kissed me, "Maybe we need to tone down the reality of our roleplaying in the bedroom."

I smiled.

_I love this woman._

* * *

I showered and got ready for work. Sara was off for the day, so I gave her a quick kiss and made my promise. We had started a tradition- anytime one of us, or both of us leaves for work, we promise each other that we'll make it home.

I got into the car and turned out of the parking lot of the apartment in the direction of the SRU building, however that wasn't my first destination. I needed it to look like I was going right to work.

Once I got to the designated intersection, I turned into the mall parking lot and made my way in. People were giving me odd stares, as I wore my complete uniform, minus my body armor, although I had my handgun carefully holstered at my side. Thankfully, the store I wanted wasn't too far in the mall.

As soon as I walked in, the shop proprietor came out from the back room and looked at me.

"Perrasmith?" the aging man asked.

With a smile I replied, "Yes."

He nodded and opened a locked drawer behind the counter and pulled out a small case. He opened the case and held it in one hand.

"It's perfect." I said, as it took my breath away.

He nodded, "Is it symbolic?"

"Yes."

* * *

Once at SRU, I got out of the car and entered the foyer. The contractors were doing a good job, but everything still wasn't back to normal since the attack on the SRU station.

Inside, Greg and Mike were talking at the door to the men's locker room.

"Hey Greg." I said, purposely not looking him in the eye.

"Megan." He said, as he choked back, "What's in the bag?"

"Depends," I replied, "How are you going?"

"It's touch and go, so…you know."

"Yeah." I nodded back, "Let me know if you want to talk."

* * *

After getting fully dressed and prepared I met the Mike in the gym, while we waited for everyone else.

"What were you and Greg talking about?" I asked.

"You know- manly stuff."

I smiled and laughed, "Yeah, whatever. So about-"

"Don't worry." Mike assured me, "I already spoke to the Commander, he's fine with the way things are, but at some point, we need to have a discussion on what comes next."  
"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know." Mike replied, as Sam entered.

"Know what?" Sam asked.

"We know that we're going on patrol-" I said, as I stood up, "I'm alpha, Sam- you and the boss are bravo."

"Copy that."

* * *

I drove down the street. I had my thoughts to myself…

_Geoffrey Cabe…I killed him. Sara- I love that girl. Dean…oh, god, Dean._

"Possible 240 at 2013 Elgin- available units, please advise." came over the radio.

I grabbed the radio microphone.

"Dispatch, this is SRU Team One Alpha, I'm 10-98."

"10-4 SRU T1 Alpha." The dispatcher responded.

"Dispatch, do we have a 10-25 on that 240 on Elgin?"

"Neighbor is reporting a man and woman fighting, unknown on weapons. Possible 240S, and 273. Do you read?"

"Copy, copy dispatch- loud and clear."

"SRU T1 Alpha- what is your 20?"

"2 minutes out, dispatch."

"Copy that, standing by."

* * *

Sam carefully chewed the gum in his mouth, while Mike drove the vehicle.

"What's going on with the team now?" Sam bluntly asked.

"What?" Mike asked.

"You know, because-"

"Just let it be, ok?" Mike said, shutting down the conversation.

"Possible 240 at 2013 Elgin- available units, please advise." The dispatcher said over the radio.

Sam looked over to Mike, "Do we copy?"

"Dispatch, this is SRU Team One Alpha, I'm 10-98." Came Megan's voice.

"Guess, not." Mike said, as he continued driving.

* * *

I finally got to the location and assessed the situation before getting too close to the house.

"Dispatch," I spoke, "SRU T1 Alpha at 240- Hispanic man, approximately thirty years of age is a high level flight risk. Additional units required."

I walked up to the house, and peered into the window of the front door. Through the window, I could see the man I had described throw a chair at a woman that I assumed was his wife.

I ducked out of the way and radioed in "Dispatch- 273 at the 240 on Elgin. Chair has been thrown at the wife- SRU T1 Alpha making entry."

I pulled out my sidearm and kicked in the door.

"SRU- do not move, hands where I can see them."

* * *

"Dispatch, this is SRU T1 Bravo, we'll backup T1 Alpha." Sam said.

"Copy that T1 Bravo. What's your 20?"

"5 minutes max."

* * *

The woman had complied, and had even put her hands on her head too. The man suddenly ran at me and knocked me to the ground. Thankfully, I had holstered my firearm.

My back slammed into the floor, which seemed to shake the entire kitchen. Over in the corner, I heard the woman yelling at the man in some European language.

The man tried to punch at my face, but I brought my arms up to block them. When he couldn't hit my face, he resorted to grabbing my one wrist, and pinning my one hand down with his knee, while he leaned more weight on me, and started to pull up my uniform shirt.

_Pervert!_

"You like that, don't you?" he calmly spoke in English.

"Get off of me, knucklehead!"

"Don't talk to me like that." He whispered into my ear as he tugged up on my undershirt.

Then I heard the solid thumping of boots.

"Stop, do it now!" Sam's voice yelled out.

The man continued pulling on my shirt and by now most of my chest was exposed.

I ripped my hand free from his grasp and managed to grab his neck, in attempt to push off some of his weight.

"Stop right now or I will shoot!" Sam screamed at him.

From across the room, probably attending to the woman I heard Mike yell out, "Sam!"

"What?" Sam asked.

"Scorpio!"

Suddenly the force of the man on my body ceased to be as one half inch bullet severed his brain stem.

* * *

The paramedics arrived. One team of paramedics was examining the woman who had initially been attacked, while two male paramedics insisted I enter the rear of their ambulance and take my shirt and bra off so they could check out my back.

"Yeah, I think I'll pass." I defiantly said to them, "What are your names?"

"Nolan Didiomette." The one replied, "That's Stefan…"

"Don't tell her my last name!" Stefan replied.

"Nolan, Stefan- how long you've been serving?"

"Couple months." They replied in unison.

"Then I'm sure you are familiar with Advanced Care Shift Supervisor Sara Thomas, right?"

"Yeah. Do you know her?" Stefan asked.

I saw Mike walk up from the side.

"You could say that." Mike spoke up, not wanting me to get riled up.

"Yeah, because she's my girlfriend, perverts!"

* * *

After the shift, I went home. I wanted to forget about the entire day.

Sara helps me do that.

When I came in the door, she was making a chicken stir fry and a spinach leaf salad. After we ate, we went out for a walk. We usually go for a brisk walk after we eat, to help burn off some of the calories.

People still look at us, walking together, stride in stride, hands cupped together, like we're some sort of foreign bacteria that should be purged of, but we try to not let it get to us, although tonight, when we stopped to sit at the park, a group of teenaged punks kept on yelling, "Homos!"

"Don't let it get to you." I said, as Sara leaned her head onto my shoulder, as my arm naturally went around her.

"It's 2014." Sara stated, "Gay marriage was brought into legislation in 2006. Why are people still homophobic?"

"Because they're jealous." I said with a smile.

I got up and knelt down to tie my shoe, which had come undone.

_This is the best time, if I ever knew it._

"You know Sara, I love you." I said, looking up at her.

"I love you." She said with a smile.

I pulled the velvet case out of my pocket, "Sara Julian Thomas- will you marry me?"

* * *

**A/N: Nice ending eh? Now some interesting facts: This is an extremely short fiction, especially when compared to the last couple chapters. Why? Because on this chapter, I merely co-authored it- a special lady friend of mine, who is huge fan of my fiction wrote most of this fiction, minus the tactical, action stuff. You'll also notice that we went this entire chapter with only vague details of what happened to Dean. What did happen? Tell me what you think happened, and you will find out in the next chapter.**

**Could this update get any better? YOU BET IT CAN! How? Because I'm annoucing that I'm going to write a Flashpoint/Community crossover!**


	11. Change Of Pace

I pulled the trigger three times. Each time, the brass casing flew out and landed in the pile of casings to my right.

I lifted my head slightly from the red dot scope to check my target, as I flipped the selector to full auto.

This time, I leaned into the stock of the AR15 and depressed the trigger to let fly 27 rounds of 5.56 full metal jacket bullets into the paper target.

Once finished, I removed the magazine and ensured the chamber was empty and laid it down.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I yelled out "cease fire" although I was the only person on the firing line as I removed my ear and eye protection. I turned to face Greg Parker.

"Hey." I said with a smile.

"I heard." Greg said, returning the sincere smile as well, "Congratulations. You excited?"

"Yeah, I am." I replied girlishly, as I showed off the diamond ring- identical to the one I had given my fiancée, Sara for our engagement.

"It's beautiful." Greg nodded.

I bit my lip for a second, hesitant to ask, but I blurted it out, "How's Dean doing?"

"He's doing great." Greg answered, "He would've died if it weren't for you."

"Would death have been better?" I asked.

Greg seemed taken back, "No- you saved his life. He's thankful for that, and so am I."

"Thanks." I replied dryly.

Greg sighed. "Megan, I know you've been going through a lot- you're still hung up on Geoffrey Cabe from the Younge Street hostage taking, shook up about SRU being invaded, and you're blaming yourself for what happened to Dean."

"This the part where you tell me I'm doing a good job?"

"No-" Greg started, "This is the part where I tell you to take a break."

"I have a wedding to plan and pay for, so that's not happening." I replied.

"I didn't mean time off."

"What did you mean?"

"I meant relax, and today is the day to do just that- relax."

"How?" I asked.

"Warden High School." Greg said, "Toronto Police graduation workshop- put in some PR on the SRU."

Greg started to walk away.

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" I asked.

"Telling you." Greg stated, before exiting through the door.

* * *

I sat down in the gym going over Greg's words.

'_You saved his life.'_

"Megan." Mike said, which snapped me back to reality.

"What?" I replied.

"Let's go. Team 3 is booking in some overtime- we're going to see Dean in the hospital."

"I don't really want to-"

"Megan," Mike interrupted, "You've haven't been there since you left. Dean's been wanting to see you. After that, the administrators want you and Sam to go to-"

"Warden High School." I finished, "Yeah, I was just talking to Greg."

* * *

We pulled up to the hospital and parked. Sam rode in the other SUV, while I was riding with Mike, who had driven.

Mike started to open his door when I asked, "What do I say to him?"

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

"What do you say to a person you've-"

"You let them talk." Mike calmly said, "Answer any questions they have, and above all- accept their gratitude."

"Ok."

I got out and walked in with Sam and Mike. They had been here previous so they knew exactly where they were going.

Once on the eighth floor of the hospital, we turned down a hallway and showed our IDs to a posted security guard, who let us past his checkpoint.

Once past, we signed in at the nurse's desk and was accompanied to Dean's private room by a nurse.

"You have an hour." She said, as she opened the door.

Immediately, my eyes went to Clark, who was standing tall beside Dean, who was lying down in the hospital bed, covered by the blankets.

"Looks like you got some visitors buddy." Clark said, as he made a note on Dean's hospital chart and hooked it back onto the end of the bed, "Let's check those bandages."

As we continued walking forward, Clark pulled off the blankets to reveal two large, gauze bandages- one on either leg just above where his knees would have been.

* * *

The sight of the amputations horrified me. I looked away the entire time, and at one point, ducked into the private washroom.

Once I was sure they were finished and that Clark had left, I came back out.

I walked up to Dean, and thankfully the covers were back over his legs.

_Or what's left of them._

"Why both of them?" I weakly asked.

"They didn't have a choice." Dean whispered.

I looked around to find Mike and Sam. They had left.

"They went to get a coffee." Dean explained.

I took a seat beside Dean. "Do you blame me?"

"No." Dean said with his signature smirk, "You saved my life."

"Do you remember screaming at yelling at me to take the tourniquet off?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded, which oddly reminded me of Greg, "Dad told me you're engaged?"

"Yeah." I said, as I showed Dean the ring.

"She's a lucky woman."

"Dean, can I ask you a question?" I asked.

"Anything."

"When we first met, did you-"

"Yeah, I had wanted to ask you out."

I smiled, "Are you glad you didn't?"

"I actually am. You and Sara have something real special, and I would never dream of being between you."

"Oh, believe me," I spoke up, as I leaned back in the chair, "Nothing gets between us."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" he asked.

"Yup."

"Not even-?"

"Nope." I replied, with a beaming smile, "Au natural."

* * *

After our visit with Dean, me and Sam got into one SUV, and Mike got into the other to head back to the SRU station.

Once at Warden High School, me and Sam got out and looked around the parking lot.

"You know, it feels like yesterday I was here with your dad after you got abducted."

"Yeah, let's get this over with." I replied, "I have too many bad memories of this place."

* * *

In the auditorium, several grade 12 students were assembled. Me and Sam sat off to the side, while some regular police officers put on a career presentation.

After they were done, I felt like booing them, but I didn't.

Together, me and Sam stood up on the stage. We had never practiced, but we knew our material backwards and forwards.

"Alright, let's give Sargent Huang a huge round of applause for that _very interesting _presentation." I spoke into the microphone, as I picked it out of its holder and took hold of it, "But do you dream of breaking down doors, firing a Heckler and Koch MP7 submachine gun, and above all, utilizing both criminal and forensic psychology to profile and predict suspects and victims?"

I passed the microphone over to Sam.

"Well, if you do." Sam said, in a flat, monotone voice. I had never realized that he was bad at public speaking, "Then consider policing in Toronto's Strategic Response Unit."

I grabbed the microphone from Sam, unimpressed with his performance, "We've put together a short video presentation, and afterwards, we will take questions from the audience."

We left the stage, as the projection screen descended and played the aged Strategic Response Unit recruitment video. It went on for ten minutes, and every minute that went on, the more I felt like a new video should be made.

After the video, we went back up on stage.

"So does anybody have any questions?"

Several hands went up.

Sam pointed to one boy in the middle.

"What's the requirements to get into SRU?"

"That's a very good question." I replied, "First of all, all recruits should be extremely fit, have excellent shooting skills and also be in an ideal psychological state. Above that, to apply for SRU you must have four or more years of policing under your belt."

"Does military experience count?"

"I'll hand that off to my team-mate." I responded.

"Yeah, military experience can definitely help, but at the same time, military experience won't prepare you psychologically for SRU."

Another hand went up. It was a woman.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Are there many women in SRU?"

"Actually," I answered, "There isn't very many. If you're considering it, I'd say go for it- we could definitely use more Y chromosomes."

Everybody laughed. It seemed like I was a natural at this.

"In the video it talked out suicide intervention. Does a lot of that happen?"

Sam took the microphone and answered, "It happens enough, definitely. You definitely need a strong stomach for this."

"Well, that's all the time we have," I said, as I swiped the microphone from Sam, "If you have any additional questions, or want some pamphlets of information, stop at our booth out in the hallway."

* * *

After the presentation, me and Sam went to the table that was setup for us, with our information pamphlets spread out on it.

Several people came up and took some of the information, but nobody stayed to talk, except for one girl.

"I've seen you before…" she nervously said to me.

"Yeah?" I asked, "Where?"

"High Park."

"Oh yeah," I replied, remembering that I proposed to Sara at High Park, "That's cool."

"You were with…"

"I was with my girlfriend." I stated.

She seemed taken back that I was upfront with that information. "So you're…?"

"Yes, I'm gay."

"They let you?" she asked.

"Well, first of all, it's a free country- I'm allowed to do anything I want. And although the force usually does censor its officers, they're proud to employ a diverse crowd of people."

"I'm gay too." The woman whispered.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," I responded, "But if you want to confide in a parent, counselor, that's your choice."

She gave me a huge smile, as she grabbed a pamphlet and took off.

_I am good at this._


	12. The Mistake

"Where's my baby- what have you done with her?"

I panicked- "Ma'am, you're having a mental episode, and I need you to calm down."

"I'll calm down when I am good and ready!"

* * *

"Your commander?"

"No. God no."

I sat on the living room floor with Sara. We were starting preparations for the wedding, starting with compiling a list of guests. Sara had wanted the SRU commander- Commander Hollerand to come.

"What about your boss?" I asked, "Daniel?"

"The USS Shannon?" Sara asked, calling her boss by his despised nickname, "Yes, lets invite an old, fat weirdo who'll eat the entire cake."

"You see?" I pointed out, as I grabbed for my phone, which was ringing- from under some table-cloth samples, "You don't want your boss there either. Hello?"

"Megan-" came the female voice, "Its SRU Dispatcher Julianna Perrasmith, Team One has been upped early."

"Copy that." I replied, with a smile, as I hung up.

I leaned over and kissed Sara, "Got to go in early. Stay sexy."

"I will." Sara replied with a wide smirk.

* * *

I walked into the SRU headquarters, with my bag slung over my shoulder, and a smile on my face.

"Why are you always smiling when you come into work?" Mike asked, as he greeted me, "Do you ever have a bad day?"

"Gotta stay positive Spike." I said, as I opened the women's locker room door, "What's up?"

"Debriefing room in five- we got about 3 applicants ready for interviewing."

"Copy that."

* * *

After I finished getting ready, I met up with Mike and Sam- and to my surprise- Greg and Dean in the gym.

I was even more surprised to find that Dean wasn't in a wheel chair- he was using a pair of crutches.

"Dean- how are you?" I asked.

He nodded, "Good."

"Dean's going to be re-joining SRU as a criminal analyst." Greg announced.

"So we'll be seeing you around." I stated, "Applicants?"

Mike handed me three files. "They've passed their entry physicals and exams, they'll just need a psychological examination."

"And that's why Greg is here." I deduced.

I opened the files quickly and meandered through them. "Sam- I assume you've checked these out- thoughts?"

"They're all from the Police Foundations program you were in at Humber. The boss was telling me Kibee was part of the SRU Rover a few years back."

"You leaning on Kibs, then?" I asked.

"She seems right for the job."

"Dean?" I asked, as I spread the files out on the bench, as he used the crutches and eased himself down onto it, "You've done this job- who do you think is best?"

"Fortier barely passed his physical, has a juvie record and his TPS service is traffic down in 53rd." Dean pointed out.

I grabbed the files belonging to James Fortier and walked over to the dispatcher's desk, where Jules was calmly sitting.

"Hey mom-" I started, "I have a juvenile delinquent record that I need details on."

"Juvies are sealed- could take a while." Jules answered.

"You have two hours, that enough?"

"Two hours- what am I going to do with the time left over?" she asked with a smile.

"Alright," I said, as I turned to Sam, "Me and Mike will setup in Conference Room three, send Wordsworth down first."

"Copy copy."

* * *

I had all our files- including applicant information, applications, proof of certification and training papers all in front of myself and Mike, as Kelly Wordsworth took a seat across from us.

"Kelly Wordsworth." I said with a smile, "First day, both of us wore our uniforms- both made Class Sargent."

"Hey." Kelly nervously answered.

"You nervous?" I asked, "Don't be, ok?"

"Ok."

"So, Kelly- I see that you worked hard. Passed your RPAT with flying colors, graduated from the academy with honors, and currently serving the TPS in the Marine Division."

Kelly nodded.

"Why do you want to be part of the SRU?" Mike asked, "It's not much better than Marine- you get the cool pants and shirt, but that's about it. Everybody's the same."

"It's stupid…" she started.

"Kelly," I interrupted, "It's not stupid."

"I think it's what I'm meant to do. My uncle-"

"Kevin Wordsworth." Mike annotated.

"When he was alive, he was always pushing me to be all that I can be. Now that he's gone, I feel like I have to."

* * *

The interview with Kelly Wordsworth lasted almost an hour. After Kelly left, Sam came in the door.

"Here's Fortier's juvie." He said, as he passed me the information, as I glanced over it.

"Bring him in."

A few minutes later, James Fortier came in and sat down.

"James Fortier, 26 years old, son to Brian and Marie Fortier, no siblings. Currently employed with the Toronto Police Service as Traffic Officer One in the 53rd Division- correct?" I asked.

"Yes." He replied, in his deep voice.

"I'm surprised they hired you, considering your record."

"I don't have a record."

"Funny thing with juvenile delinquent records- they don't show up on a typical police check, and everybody thinks that after they spend their time in juvenile hall and turn eight-teen, that they go away. They don't."

"Ease up." Mike whispered to me.

"Petty theft and driving without a license- care to explain? "

"You look familiar…" James started.

"Can't place me?" I asked, "Third row from the back, Humber College- not in proper dress, and by the second week, was considering changing to what- Computer Engineering?"

"How do you know that?"

"Strategic Response Unit Team One Team Leader Megan Perrasmith. I was in your class, and I was also your Class Sargent."

"James-" Mike said, "I don't think we can hire you- honestly, I don't understand how you made it this far."

"I understand." He said, as he left.

"Last one?" I asked.

"Last one!" Mike exclaimed with a laugh.

* * *

"Kibee!" I exclaimed, as Jessica Kibee entered.

"Megan, how you doing?" she asked, as she sat down.

"Good, good. It's been a while."

"Four years." Kibee answered, "Passed Police Foundations, got a job with in the North Bay District Police Force."

"Up north-" I butted in, "How'd you like it up there?"

"Not too bad." Kibee answered, "Started with them, they sent me back down here for the Academy, and then there was a position in the Toronto branch of the OPP, so it took it."

"You work with Aaron Coutu?" I asked.

"Staff Inspector Coutu?" Jessica asked, "You know him?"

"We've met a few times over the years- him and my dad were close."

"I'm sorry."

"About?" I asked.

"Your dad."

"I'm fine- I just have a few questions, and then we'll get to the roleplaying section of the interview."

"Ok."

"You said you've worked with the OPP- they typically enforce provincial laws. You comfortable with municipal and federal laws as well?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Your range testing-" I said, as I pulled out her targets and laid them out, "I find your pistol grouping troubling."

"But its within parameters."

"Yes, it is- but do you know why I find it troubling?"

"Because on each target, my fifth shot is the outlier."

"That's right." I said, "Are you confident in your shooting abilities."

"Yes."

"Ok, and my last question: homosexuals."

"Ummm- what?" Jessica asked.

"What's your position?"

"People have the right to love whoever they want. That being said, I'd keep my thoughts to myself."

"What are your thoughts?" I asked, "Say I told you that Sargent Mike Scarlatti was gay. What are your thoughts?"

Jessica hesitated.

"C'mon Jess, you can't hesitate- you could be talking down a sexually confused teenager here."

"Professionally- I don't see a problem with it." Jessica admitted, "But personally- I think it's weird. Two men loving each other?"

"Ok, let's get onto the roleplaying part."

* * *

After the interviews, Sam joined us in the Conference room.

"Can we all agree that Fortier isn't the one?" I asked.

Both Sam and Mike nodded, as I threw James' file across the table.

"Jessica Kibee." I said.

"I like her." Sam added.

"You think she's hot." I guessed, "Her skills, we're looking at her skills."

"Previous SRU Rover experience, with Greg, Ed, your dad, and Jules and me."

"The best of the best, yeah, I know." I agreed.

"And Kelly Wordsworth." Mike said.

"And then there were two- both Kelly and Jessica are excellent."

"We can only have one-" Mike replied, "Apparently."

The call horn rang out- "Team One, hot call!"

* * *

The three of us got into one SUV, I sat in the backseat, while Mike drove and Sam sat shotgun.

"Jules, what do we got?" I asked over the radio.

"Saint Simon's hospital security requesting police assistance with an unruly patient- Gail Walters; paramedics admitted her yesterday when she coughed up 2 units of blood at work."

Once at the hospital we got out of the SUV.

"Boss- talk to security, feed us everything we need to know. Sam will second me with a shield, and I'll begin contact."

"Ok." Mike said, "I'll try to find her doctor and try to figure out how this may have happened."

Once inside, a security guard took me and Sam up two floors to the Intensive Care Unit on the 3rd floor.

"She used an IV machine and knocked out one of our guards." The guard told us.

"Where is the guard?" I asked.

"Knocked out in the woman's room. Anytime we get close, she starts throwing stuff at us."

"And here I thought hospital security guards were fearless warriors." Sam commented.

I laughed, as I fist tapped Sam. "Good one. Boss?"

"I copy- what's going on?" Mike asked.

"We're beginning our approach- we were just talking to one of the guards, and he told us that one of the guards-"

"Hilary." The guard mouthed to me.

"-Hilary," I continued, "Was knocked out by Gail Walters- let's get some hospital staff on standby to check Hilary out, once we can extract her."

"Copy that."

I turned on the guard, "Alright, sir, I need you to stay back, ok?"

"Ok."

"Megan," Sam said, as he raised the shield, "Your covered, ready?"

"Copy, copy."

Silently, but quickly, we approached the room.

Sam pulled out his handgun and held it at the ready, as did I.

"Gail Walters-" I yelled to her, as we started into her hospital room, "My name is Megan Perrasmith, and I'm with the Police Strategic Response Unit. The hospital told me what's going on here."

"Stay where you are!" Gail demanded.

"We're staying right here." I replied.

"Go away!"

"I'm sorry, we can't do that. You mind telling me how that security guard is going? Her name is Hilary, and I just want to make sure she's ok."

"I knocked her out!"

"I'm aware of that, Gail. I want to know how she's doing, ok?"

"Put your guns away!"

"You know what Gail, I'm putting it away, ok?" I asked, "Are you seeing this, I'm holstering my weapon. How's that guard doing?"

"Tell him to put his gun away!"

"His name is Sam- ok Gail?"

"Put it away!"

"He can't do that Gail."

"Megan," Mike's voice came over the radio, "I have Mrs. Walter's doctor with me, and he's saying that they found symptoms of mental illness in Gail Walters, so tread carefully. Is that guard a hostage?"

"I'm getting no status from Gail, and I can't tell from my angle."

"Ok- find out what she wants, and I'll get some more information down here."

"Gail," I spoke to the suspect, "My boss- he really wants to know how that guard is doing, but if you tell me what you want, maybe we can help you and that guard, ok?"

"I just want to know where my baby is. Where's my baby?"

"Alright- I'm going to talk to my friend on the other end of this radio, and we're going to find out, ok. What's your baby's name?"

"Angelica."

"Mike?" I asked.

"Looking for an Angelica Walters- wait, what?"

"Mike?" I asked again.

"The doctor is telling me that Gail is single and doesn't have any children."

"So you're telling me she's delusional?"

* * *

"She's delusional?" I asked again.

"Yeah, I would guess so."

"Where's my baby? Where's Angelica?" Gail screamed.

"Gail," I calmly said, "Angelica doesn't exist. You're having a mental episode."

"I'm not crazy!" she yelled, as she sauntered over to where security guard Hilary's limp body laid on the floor, "She knows where she is!"

"Gail, please, step away from the guard."

"I'm going to kill her- I'm going to bash her skull in!"

"Gail!" I yelled at her, "Step away from the guard!"

"Then tell me where my baby is!"

"Angelica doesn't exist!"

Gail stepped closer to the passed out guard.

"Where's my baby- what have you done with her?"

"You're having a mental episode, and I need you to calm down."

"I'll calm down when I am good and ready!"

Gail lifted her leg, and I could already visualize the path in which she intended to forcefully push her leg and foot down onto the guard's skull.

In a smooth motion, I pulled my duty firearm from its holster and shot Gail Walters.

As I witnessed the bullet's path, the memory of the ballistic trajectory of the bullet that I had used to kill Geoffrey Cabe flashed in front of me. It felt like I was watching both Gail Walters and Geoffrey Cabe die at the same time.

I stared blankly at the scene, gun still pointed, but the barrel smoking, as I tried to force the images from my mind, as Mike was yelling over the radio, "What the hell happened?"

* * *

"Megan!" Mike yelled over the radio, "I didn't give Scorpio."

I realized what I had done. I killed Gail Walters, and I hadn't received authorization.

"Alright Megan," Mike calmly spoke over the radio, "I have SIU. Stay where you are. The detectives will be up shortly."

And they were. They took my sidearm from me, and they escorted me down the stairs into a waiting police cruiser.

This time Mike didn't come to ask me if I was alright, nor did he tell Stainton to shove it. I was alone.

The ride back to the station was uneventful. The detective kept trying to talk to me, but I didn't reply. I knew damn well that I was sequestered.

Once at the station, I was escorted to the debriefing room, where SIU was already setup. When we passed the dispatcher's desk, I looked to Jules- my mother.

She looked at me, although it was the first time I had seen her looking at me like that- she disproved of my actions.

Inside the debriefing room, was my lawyer and the SIU inspector.

"Before we begin," the SIU officer said, "I have no reason to believe what you did was wrong Megan- but the media is all over this and…"

"And what?" my lawyer asked.

"The public defense attorneys have caught wind- I don't know how they knows, but they've figured out that you were not given authorization by your superiors for use of force."

"So?" Emily, my lawyer, asked, "The PDA has nothing to do with this. Are they representing the family of?"

"We can only assume that the family of Gail Walters is going to lawyer up, maybe even with the PDA. That's the problem- the PDA is requesting you stand trial for the murder and manslaughter of Gail Walters."

* * *

**A/N: Cue the cliffhanger music! That's right. So what's going to happen? What about Dean's replacement? Read and review!**

**Also, on another note, I'm going to let this hang for a while, just because I believe that everything matures with age.**


	13. Making History

_Three._

I looked to the front of the car, where the police constable calmly pulled up to the curb in front of the courthouse. There was a large crowd- angered friends and family, reporters, newscasters.

_Two._

I shut my eyes, hoping this would all be a horrible dream- that I'd wake the moment before I had shot a delusional woman who was threatening to bash in the head of the hospital security guard. I forced them open- but this is real. This is happening.

I moved my wrists slightly, and was gently reminded of the reinforced steel handcuffs on my wrists.

My eyes landed on my lawyer- Emily Makinson, who sat beside me. Whether or not I was showing it, she could tell that I was scared.

"It's going to be ok." She assured me, as she adjusted my sweater over my wrists, to cover up the handcuffs and adjusted the position of my sunglasses on my nose.

_One._

The doors swung open wide, as Emily got out of the car first. I hesitated, but a powerful hand reached in and grabbed me.

I was pulled out and brought to my feet. Emily stood directly in front of me and Ed, Mike, and Sam stood around us in a protective semi-circle.

Cameras flashed and reporters had attempted to get in front of me with their microphones and digital recorders. Thanks to Ed and the gang, they never got close.

We started walking to the front doors of the courthouse.

* * *

Once settled in the court room, the judge and the bailiff came out.

"We are here today to hear the charges and the pleas of the case of the late Gail Walters represented by the Public Defense Attorney- Robert Blake against Officer Megan Perrasmith represented by Police Services lawyer Emily Makison. Robert Blake, of the PDA, what are the charges you wish to bring up against Ms. Perrasmith?"

Blake stood up and spoke to the judge, "Your honor, I ask for a full trial against Ms. Megan Perrasmith for the charges of manslaughter, murder of the first degree, inappropriate use of force of a peace officer, and assault with a weapon, with intent to kill."

"Objection, your honor," Emily spoke for me, "You will see in the evidence surrendered forthwith, that the Special Investigations Unit investigated Ms. Perrasmith's use of force, and was cleared in any wrongdoings concerning her use of force."

"Blake?" the judge asked.

"I rescind the charge of inappropriate use of force." Robert Blake stated.

"And I therefore rescind my objection, your honor." Emily continued, "On the charge of assault with a weapon, with intent- I ask for the intention to be removed, your honor."

"Under what grounds?"

"By the grounds of the Standard Operating Procedures of the Strategic Response Unit."

"As per what, exactly?" Blake asked, "What does the accused plea?"

"Blake," the judge calmly instructed, "Please be quiet while this case is being made. But I reiterate, Ms. Makinson- as per what?"

"Under the confidentiality agreement of the Strategic Response Unit, I cannot make a quote of the Operating Procedures, however, I will provide a common statement."

"Which is?"

"As per the Standard Operating Procedures of the Strategic Response unit, all officers- if required to shoot, are bound by contract to shoot to inflict death."

The judge eyed both me and Emily up.

"The charge of assault with a weapon, with intent will not be removed or modified, Makison. Any others?"

"No your honor," Emily said, "But I do raise concern that this case should not be tried in a public affair. A private criminal trial is in the best interest of my client."

"And what are those interests?" the judge asked.

"My client is an officer of the law. If she were to return to work, she may be treated unfairly by superiors and not respected by the public, as they should."

"I will make a note of those interests, thank you." The judge said, as he wrote on a notepad, "How does Ms. Perrasmith plea?"

I looked up to Emily, as she nodded. I stood up too.

"Ms. Perrasmith, how do you plea to the charges of manslaughter?"

"Not guilty."

"Murder of the first degree?"

"Not guilty."

"Assault with a-" the judge started.

"Your honor?" Emily interrupted.

"What is it now?"

"May the charge of assault with a weapon and intention be divided and tried separately?"

"Objection, your honor." Blake spoke up.

"Over-ruled." The judge said, "I'll allow it."

"Ms. Perrasmith, how to you plea of the charges of assault?"

"Not guilty."

"Assault with a weapon?"

"Not guilty."

"Assault with the intent to kill?"

"Not guilty."

"May I renew my objection to the division of the assault charges, your honor?" Blake asked, "Ms. Makison obviously new the plea of her client- it would make no difference whether the charges were to be divided or not."

"Over-ruled." The judge said, "Blake, I understand you have a plea bargain?"

"Yes-" Blake said, "On the condition that the accused plea guilty to all charges, we recommend sentencing of three years less a day in maximum security and two years in a women's detention facility.

"Makinson?"

"Understood, your honor."

The judge poured over his notes, and the file he had on his desk. "I move to bring this case to trial."

"Your honor?" Makinson asked.

"Private trial." The judge said with a nod.

"Your honor," Blake asked, "I request that the accused be remanded into custody until the date of the hearing."

"My god, Robert-" Emily said, as she turned to face Blake instead of the judge, "Do you think she's a flight risk? It's a high profile case, involving a police officer. On top of that- where exactly would she go? She has no family or friends outside of this city."

"Your honor?" Blake asked.

"I accept your concern Blake, however I will not remand her into custody. I will however accept other tabled offers."

"House arrest." Blake suggested.

"Objection." Emily defied.

"Parole Injuction?"

"Objection."

"That's enough- the both of you." The judge stopped the conversation, "I move to bring this case to private trial at the earliest possible convenience. I also move for public restriction on Ms. Megan Perrasmith by appointing Mr. Kristopher Perrasmith her public guardian."

"Who?" Blake asked.

"Your honor," Emily said, "I ask that you read your notes more carefully- my client's father passed away several years ago."

"My apologies, " the judge apologized, as he picked up some pages in my case file, "That in mind, I will appoint Mr. Edward Lane her public guardian. Ms. Megan Perrasmith is not to leave her apartment complex unless she is in the direct control of Edward Lane. Ms. Perrasmith is not to enter any court of law without both her lawyer and Mr. Lane. The direct control of Ms. Perrasmith is defined as inescapable custody and Ms. Perrasmith is to be handcuffed and/or restrained at all times, unless she is in her apartment complex."

* * *

After the pre-trial, my lawyer debriefed Ed on his responsibilities as my public guardian. As per his orders, he cuffed me and drove me home.

"Do you think I did the wrong thing?" I asked.

We were stopped at a stop light. Ed looked over to me, "Of course not."

"You're just saying that." I said, "Because even I know that what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have shot her. I should've…."

"That's the great thing about the past, Meg," Ed said, as he pulled up to my apartment, got out and opened my door for me, "It's 20/20. You just have to keep looking forward."

"I'm trying to Ed, but it seems like my whole life in is the past- my dad…my mom, this…"

Ed walked me to my apartment door in silence. After he knocked, he turned and started unlocking the cuffs.

"See you later?" Ed asked, as Sara opened the door.

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

After dinner with Sara, we got back to planning the wedding. We had initially planned on going to the bakery and trying some cake samples.

"This sucks." I said, as I laid on the living room floor, with Sara lying next to me, and cuddled close to my body.

"It doesn't matter." Sara said, "As long as I'm with you."

I closed my eyes as I thought about my upcoming trial.

"_It'll most likely be in the next 2 weeks." Emily explained, "That judge likes to keep things moving. It's not going to be a public trial, but a trial nonetheless, so there will be a jury of 12 different people. You probably won't know any of them._

_Then Emily bit her lip, as she continued, "Megan- I'm going to try my hardest to keep you out of jail, but I can't guarantee anything. Your trial? I'm going to make it about you, about your character and integrity as a police officer to show that you've always put the best interest of the public ahead of your own. I'm going to put your Sargent- Mike Scarlatti on the stand. Dean Parker is also willing to testify in your defense. Now, you can say no to this, but I'd also like to put your fiancée on the stand- to show that you're not only a cop, but you're also human."_

I still hadn't made up my mind on whether or not I wanted Sara to testify at my trial. Part of me wanted her to, but another part of me didn't. If she did, she could be cross-examined by Robert Blake. He could probably get her to spill the few times I've come home from work angry, yelling and cursing.

Sara could tell I had inner turmoil, "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothin'."

Sara rolled on top of me, and we shared a stare. Behind her blue eyes, was a person that was truly compassionate, cared and loved the woman that she was on top of.

I leaned up as I kissed her.

"Let's take this to the bedroom." Sara suggested.

* * *

After we finished making love, I looked over to the clock. 5:39pm.

"I better get ready." I said, "Ed's picking me up at 6."

I got up and grabbed a semi-formal outfit from the closet.

"Uhm, that's mine." Sara pointed out.

"Can I wear it?" I asked, with a smile, knowing that we're both the same size.

She smiled and nodded.

"So, how long?" Sara asked.

I had to think about it for a second, "Four years- to the day." I said, as I did my hair in a quick and neat bun.

Sara got out of the bed. He had the sheets around her. _Good thing, _I thought, _or else I'd be horny again._

"I meant, how long are you going to be at the cemetery?"

"I don't know." I said. It was the first time in four years that me, my mom and Kristina were going to visit dad's grave together.

"Did you want me to come?" Sara asked, as a knock came at the door, which was probably Ed.

"Maybe next time."

* * *

On the drive over to the cemetery, Ed told me that he had already told Jules that I'd have to be cuffed. Once there, Ed opened the SUV door and let me out.

"I'll give you some space." Ed said.

"Thank you." I muttered back, as I approached my step-mother and my four year old sister.

"Up!" Kristina asked, as mom gave me a quick hug, as she turned and walked down the line to dad's grave.

"Sorry, Krissy, I can't." I whispered to her, as memories of my father washed back, as if he had never left, and I started crying.

"What's wrong?" Kristina asked, as she edged closer to me and hugged my leg.

I knelt down to bring my face to Kristina's level- "Krissy, you know our dad-"

"He's gone." Kristina said in her squeaky voice.

"Yeah, he is." I stuttered, as I awkwardly tried to hug Kristina, "He was the best dad ever Krissy, and I miss him."

"It's going to be ok." Kristina reassured me.

I looked into Kristina's eyes, and for about five seconds, I was looking into the eyes of my father.

Subconsciously, my father is telling me it's going to be ok.

* * *

After mom was finished at dad's grave, she came and kept Kristina company. It was my turn.

I turned to face the headstone. It looked as new as it ever did, like it was placed there fresh. On the unswaying slab it spelt:

_Kristopher Allison Perrasmith_

_Loving husband, caring father._

_In eternal sleep, he still loves._

"Dad-" I whispered, not really wanting anyone to hear me, but at the same time, I didn't really care if they did, "Where ever you are, I know you're watching over me. I still love you, and I never want you to leave me."

I closed my eyes as I started to go over those words.

But I couldn't, because Ed was yelling at me.

"Megan!"

I heard a gunshot.

I opened my eyes and looked at the gravestone again.

The 'O' in love had turned into a bullet hole.

* * *

I looked over. There was a man, about thirty years old, with a handgun in his hands in between myself, mom and Kristina on the laneway.

I knew that Ed was concealed carrying his sidearm, and that he would immediately get to and cover mom and Kristina.

The man brought up the gun again and fired.

This time, I was too quick. I had ducked even before the trigger was fully depressed, and started into a frontwards roll, which came to a clumsy end, as I had to use my cuffed wrists to bring myself to a stop and to push myself back up.

Now I was within five feet of the man. I could tell that the gun was a six-shooter revolver.

_Two down, four to go._

I turned and kicked out high with my left foot, hoping to knock the gun from his hand. The kick never connected, and the man took a few steps back and leveled the sights of the revolver back onto me.

Again, I anticipated the trigger press and was able to swing out and away from the bullet's path. My avoidance swing however, had left me with my back to the man. Before I could react, a massively muscled arm wrapped around my chest, as I felt the warm steel of the revolver's barrel on my neck.

"You killed my sister!"

I wildly guessed, and kicked my right foot backwards, and it surprisingly connected to the man's groin. In pain, he dropped the gun on the grass, and fell down, attempting to hold his wounded crotch.

I kicked away the gun, and crudely and purposely stepped onto the man's knees and legs.

"You shot my father's grave! The fact that he was murdered once isn't good enough for you!?"

"Get off….get off…"the man begged, as I put more pressure on his knees and legs.

"Gail Walters got what she deserved." I coldly stated.

* * *

The police finally got there. They took the man into custody. They took me into custody. Ed tried to tell them that he was my public guardian, but they didn't seem to care.

I got taken down to what the cops call 'lock up', but it's really called Toronto Police Services Custody Detention Centre. Like any other prisoner, I was thrown into a tiny cell, awaiting my orange jumpsuit and mug shots. I still wore Ed's handcuffs.

I don't know how long it was, but it had to be long enough, as I had fallen asleep and woken up, when my lawyer appeared on the other side of the bars.

"Didn't expect to find you here." Emily said, with a smirk, "We have an emergency meeting with the judge and the PDA."

"They're going to press more charges?" I asked.

"They'll try."

* * *

I was able to wash up quickly before I went with Emily to an interrogation room, where the PDA lawyer, Robert Blake and the judge from before where.

"Please proceed." The judge said, as the prison guard forced me into a chair.

"Your honor," Blake said, "In light of recent events, I move to add the charges of assault, assault with the intention of causing bodily harm and criminal intimidation of a witness of court."

"Objection," Emily stated, "My client was merely defending herself against her attacker. As you both know, she had been fired upon. As the national use of force model dictates, my client had every right to use lethal force, but she didn't."

"You encouraging a murderer?" Blake asked Emily.

"My client also didn't know that the suspect was a family member of the woman."

"I've heard enough." The judge calmly said, "She's already plead 'not guilty' to assault- Megan Perrasmith, how do you plea to the charge of assault with the intention of causing bodily harm?"

"Not guilty." I simply stated, not even looking up.

"Criminal intimidation of a witness?"

I looked up to Emily. She had not prepared me for what additional charges I'd be facing, and what my plea should be.

"Ms. Perrasmith, I need your answer." The judge asked, "Do you plead guilty or not guilty to the criminal intimidation of a witness?"

"Guilty." I stated.

* * *

**A/N: Say WHAT NOW? That's right. I went there. And yeah, I love this fiction too much to leave it alone. I'd also like to formerly welcome fanfiction user Hope06 into my addicting web of Flashpoint fanfiction.**

**I also pose a question from a question: I was asked who I envision Megan as- actress wise. I thought about, and I couldn't think of any. So here's the question for you- if my fanfiction was to be made into a TV show or movie, who would you like to see star as Megan Perrasmith?**


	14. Hunting Season

Sam nervously tapped his foot against the concrete floor. He had already suited up and met up with Team One's newest member- Kelly Wordsworth.

"Does the Sargent always take this long?" Kelly asked.

"Not usually." Sam commented, "Probably because he's getting the latest news about Megan."

They had all heard. Not only was it huge SRU news, it was city-wide. A Strategic Response Unit Officer being put on trial for the death of an insane woman.

Or that's how Sam put it.

Finally, Mike entered the debriefing room.

"And?" Sam asked.

"She's been put into custody. She'll remain in custody until the trial."

"Jeezz." Kelly said, "What happened?"

Sam and Mike shared glances, and then looked over to Kelly.

Sam pressed the button so the projector screen would roll down the wall, as Mike turned on the projector, "Why don't we show you." Mike said.

* * *

After they watched the video, Mike paused it.

"You understand what this video means, right Kelly?" Mike asked.

"That we should always wait for your orders before doing something?"

Sam shook his head.

"It means that if you make a definitive choice and do something to change an outcome, you have to have full confidence about it." Sam explained.

"Megan didn't?"

"No," Sam continued, "She did have confidence, and I know, even without her telling me, that she knows that she did the right thing. The problem is, that now she has to come clean for what she did-"

"-And although what she did was ultimately the right thing to do," Mike continued, "Legally, it was wrong."

"So she has to convince everybody of that fact." Kelly said, finally understanding.

Mike and Sam nodded.

"Team One, hot call, hot call!" Jules yelled out, "Coppers on Locheil Drive requesting backup on an armed and barricaded."

"Let's go." Mike said, as they got up, "Sam, you're TL."

* * *

Once on scene, Kelly, Mike and Sam met up.

"Apartment belongs to a Scott Debellefeuille." Mike reported.

"Cops have identified that Scott's our barricaded." Sam said, as he nodded at the Command truck rolling on scene, "You'll want to call in, boss. Me and Kelly will stealth up and eyes and ears online. We'll wait for your go, but we'll setup for an explosive entry with CS gas."

"Copy that." Mike said, as he got into the truck.

Both carrying shields, Sam and Kelly stealthily went up the stairs of the apartment building and got to the man's apartment door.

Sam nodded to Kelly, who immediately and quietly removed her backpack and got out a snake camera. She carefully guided it under the door and craned it slightly up and away from the floor to get a full view of the foyer and living room of the apartment.

"I've got eyes, but no joy." Kelly whispered into the headset as she configured the dials and settings to get the ears online, "Ears online."

A few minutes went by.

"Sam-" Mike radioed, "I'm getting no answer on the phone and the camera isn't picking anything up. You're going in explosive."

"Copy copy." Sam said, as Kelly pulled out the snake camera and tucked it back into her bag.

Meanwhile, Sam placed a shape charge on the metal door of the apartment. He motioned over to Kelly to don her gas mask, as they'd be going in with the CS gas.

Once Kelly had her mask on, she readied her MP5 submachine gun. This was the moment that her years of training were for.

Sam pressed the actuator for the shape charge, which immediately blew the door off its hinges. Quickly followed by the explosion, Sam dropped in a canister of CS gas, as him and Kelly entered the apartment.

"Anything?" Mike asked over the radioed.

"Negative." Sam radioed, "He's not here."

"Better get an APB out." Kelly suggested.

"Looks like we're going hunting." Sam said.

* * *

"All units be advised," came Jules' voice from the APB radio, "One Scott Debellefeuille, 10-29. No registered vehicle, possibly on foot from 12254 Lochiel Drive Apartment D- subject is considered armed and dangerous. Please advise if located."

Mike met up with Sam and Kelly. "Ok, we'll start a radial pattern search from here. He can't of gotten far- we have infrared incoming on a chopper, ten minutes ago."

"Copy." Sam said with a curt nod, as he slipped on his sunglasses, "We each have a 30 degree swath- I'll go north. Kelly, north-north east on my 3 o'clock, boss north-north west on my 9."

They nodded as they went to work.

Sam's path was straight forward- it followed the road. He walked cautiously for a couple of minutes then radioed out, "Team One, status?"

"I'm good." Kelly radioed back.

"A-ok." Mike replied.

Overtop, Sam saw the helicopter head north, sweeping low, getting their infrared images.

"Helo One to SRU Team One, over." The helicopter team radioed them.

"SRU Team One copies, Helo One, go ahead." Sam replied.

"Images pushed to you."

"Sam-" came Jules' voice, "The helicopter crew sent me the images, I'm sending them to your PDAs."

"Copy that Jules." Sam said, as he came to a stop and drew out his PDA, "Kelly- you're almost right on top of a signature!"

* * *

Mike had just finished radioing in his status to Sam, when he noted the helicopter fly by. He didn't pay it any attention. He kept on walking forwards.

He came up quietly on a lump in the ground. It looked like it might be a bundled up human, so he gave it a kick. He regretted it three seconds later when his foot connected with a solid rock.  
_Romans and woods, man. Romans and woods. _Spike thought to himself.

Suddenly Sam yelled over the radio, "Kelly- you're almost right on top of a signature!"

* * *

Kelly couldn't get over the excitement. She was on her first SRU call. They had already had to blow open a door and clear an apartment.

_And they say computer engineering is fun._

For once, she loved her job.

"Team One, status?" Sam asked over the radio.

"I'm good." Kelly radioed back.

Kelly looked ahead. Something didn't seem right- she couldn't put her mind on it.

She felt the windwash of the helicopter, as it flew over them.

_This job is so cool!_

Suddenly Sam yelled over the radio, "Kelly- you're almost right on top of a signature!"

Kelly looked in front of her. She couldn't visibly see anything…

"Police, SRU- show yourself now!" Kelly demanded, on a hunch.

Sure enough, the suspect stood tall and put his hands in the air.

Kelly moved in and cuffed him.

"Suspect in custody."

* * *

**A/N: I had to do a chapter for all those tacticool mall cops (actually, I shouldn't talk….) out there.**


	15. The Trial

I rocked my body gently on the firm wood bench. The past week had been hell.

I was brought into custody until my trial. On the first day, I spent the entire day crying in my cell. I missed Sara. I missed my mom, missed Kristina. I missed being free.

On the second day, I was forced to go outside for some exercise. I had approached the rusted rack of dumbbells when a muscular man who had probably spent the last couple years here told me to scram.

I stood up to him. I told him that as prisoners here, that we both had the right to use the equipment.

He begged to differ.

I was quick enough the dodge his first few punches, but the ones that did hit- they hurt. One in the face, and two in the gut. The guards quickly broke it up.

I didn't instigate the fight, but I requested protective solitary confinement. I figured that some of the inmates might find out, or know that I'm a cop, which would essentially make me a walking target.

So for the 3rd day- in solitary confinement, I cried again. I didn't want to be here. I had only been in prison for three days, and it was already breaking me.

On the fourth day, Emily- my lawyer stopped by to go over my case. At the trial I'd still have the chance to plead not guilty to criminal intimidation, and Emily strongly advised that I do so. She also told me that the judge had received pressure from not only his superiors, but also the public for a public trial. He had no choice, but to make it public.

The PDA, or Public Defense Attorney made another plea bargain- if I plead guilty to all charges, he'd recommend five years of maximum security with chance of early parole.

Again, Emily assured me that she had her full attention on my case, and that she would do everything in her power to keep me out of jail. She did however mention, that I should prepare for the eventuality, regardless, that I'll be committed into prison for at least a year.

Back in solitary, on the fifth day, I transitioned from the first mental-depressive phase of prison confinement, to the second phase. I stopped eating, and stopped being co-operative with the guards that would guard me on my walks around the yard.

The sixth day had nearly came and went, when a man in a suit stood before me when they opened my cell in solitary. He tossed me a fresh and clean orange jumpsuit and told me to change. I threw it back at him. Then I remember a needle prick.

I woke up in what I could've only assumed was the prison's sick bay. Someone had changed my orange jumpsuit. Using a mirror on the wall, I saw that they had also washed my hair, and cleaned the dried blood and scabs off my face.

Then I was put in a prisoner transfer vehicle and carted to the courthouse.

That's where I am now.

Again, I rocked my body on the wood bench, where I sat beside my lawyer, cuffed to an immobility bar, so I could hardly move my wrists and arms above its resting position on my lap.

The bailiff came in, and introduced himself. The jury came in, and sat down. The judge- whose name was mentioned, but I wasn't paying attention- came in and sat down.

My trial has begun.

* * *

I had my head bowed down, and my eyes shut. I just wanted the trial to be over with. At the front right corner of the courthouse was the jury bench. Situated beside them was the court room transcriber- an older woman who typed frantically anytime anything was said.

In the front middle, was obviously the judge's seat and the witness stand. Off to the left were designated seats for members of the media.

Emily quickly nudged me and whispered, "Sit up straight, face forward."

"Today, the case of Officer Megan Perrasmith versus the party of the late Gail Walters will be heard. Will the party of please stand to declare the charges the accused faces."

The Public Defense Attorney, Robert Blake, stood.

"Your honor, I ask that Megan Perrasmith be stripped of her badge and honor, and charged with Murder of the First Degree, Manslaughter, Assault, and Assault with a weapon, Assault with intent to kill, Assault with intent to harm, and Criminal Intimidation."

The judge turned to face the jury, "Mr. Blake is suggesting the charges of assault with intent to harm and criminal intimidation for the crimes committed after the fact."

"Objection, your honor." Emily asked.

"By what grounds?"

"By suggesting that the actions after the fact are crimes, are you suggesting that self-defense is a crime?"

The judge bit his lip.

"Let it be known, that Officer Perrasmith is facing the charges of intent to harm and criminal intimidation when she was attacked, unprovokingly." The judge informed the jury, "And how does the accused plea?"

"My client pleads not guilty to all counts."

"Ok, Ms. Makinson," the judge said, "Let's begin- who do you call to the stand?"

"I call Sargent Michelangelo Scarlatti to the stand."

Mike stood and came forward. The bailiff swore him in, then my lawyer proceeded.

"Mr. Scarlatti, what is your position in the Strategic Response Unit?"

"I'm the Sargent of the Strategic Response Unit Team One."

"Which is the same team Officer Perrasmith is on?"

"Yes."

"In what capacity?"

"Ms. Perrasmith is the Team Leader of Team One."

"Is Megan Perrasmith competent for this role?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe that Megan Perrasmith performed, in all effects of her duty on the date of March 7th?"

"Yes, I do."

"Sargent Scarlatti, I'm sure you are well versed in the definitions of the charges laid against my client?"

"Objection," Blake said, "This testimony was brought forward on the basis of character, not expertise."

"I'll allow it." The judge ruled.

"Sargent Scarlatti?" Emily asked, "Are you well versed…?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"In the case at hand then, do the charges make sense- on the basis of character, of course?"

"No."

"Please explain."

"By definition, assault, and its following charges, would mean that the accused was acting with malicious intent."

"And do you believe that Megan Perrasmith was acting in malicious intent?"

"No."

"That is all your honor." Emily said.

The judge nodded, as Emily returned to her seat, as Blake stood to cross-examine the witness.

"Sargent Scarlatti," Robert Blake started, " in regards to this case, on the date of March 7th, were you within proximity when the accused fired her firearm, which killed Gail Walters?"

"No."

"Where were you?"

"I was manning our command centre."

"Ahh, so you mean to say that you are unaware of the circumstance regarding the death of my client?"

"No, I was viewing the CCTV."

"Your honor, with your blessing, I'd like to overview the objective reasoning of the charges with the jury?"

"Objection, your honor." Emily stated.

"By what?"

"The party of is clearly attempting to cross the testimony of Sargent Scarlatti."

"I hear your objection." The judge said, "Mr. Blake, please finish your cross-examination of Mr. Scarlatti before your overview, which I must remind you, must be of objective reasoning."

"I'm finished with the cross examination." Blake said, as Mike returned to his seat, "My jury, I come to objectively quantify the charges against Ms. Perrasmith. I do warn however, the slides I will be showing, may be graphic."

Robert Blake grabbed a small remote control and pressed a button. On the projector screen, showed the bullet wound in Gail Walters.

"This clearly shows that dear Gail Walters, mother of…"

"Objection!"

"Mr. Blake, I remind you," the judge reminded him again, "Please stay on topic and objective."

"Gail Walters was indeed murdered." Blake finished, "And slaughtered, by a woman who believes she is above the law. That of course, explains her over-reaction, causing the charges of assault with intent to harm and criminal intimidation. That is all."

Blake sat back down.

"Again, Ms. Makinson, who do you call to the stand?"

"I call Dean Parker to the stand."

"Your honor," Blake interrupted, as Dean hauled himself up from his seat, with his crutches, "I renew my objection to this witness, as he was not involved in the circumstances."

"Blake, I fully remember your objection, and need I remind you that this is yet another witness to prove the character of the accused?"

Dean sat down at the stand, as Emily stood.

"I'm sure we all noted it, but Mr. Parker, what happened to your legs?" Emily asked.

"They were amputated."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Why don't you tell me what you feel of Ms. Perrasmith, as an officer of the law?"

"She is one of the best. I learned a lot from her."

"You did?"

"Yes. She saved my life."

"How so?"

"I had suffered a bullet wound to my leg. Megan- I mean, Ms. Perrasmith applied a tourniquet, which saved my life."

"Now, " Emily said, as she turned to face the jury, "Do you really think the same woman who saved Mr. Parker's life is the same woman who murdered Gail Walters?"

"Makison," the judge asked, "Please explain, are you stating that your client wasn't in a clear state of mind when she shot Gail Walters?"

"No, your honor," Emily said, "I am stating that it is unlikely that a woman who values life as much as Megan Perrasmith, shot Gail Walters, if there wasn't probable cause to do so."

"And what, as you say, is the probable cause?"

"Your honor and the jury- are you familiar with the Priority of Life?"

Nobody answered.

"As we still have Dean Parker on the stand, Dean- what is the Priority of Life?"

"The Priority of Life," Dean explained, "Is a code of conduct phrase that prioritizes an officer's duty to preserve life. The priority is given to hostages or victims. If the lives of hostages or victims are no longer viable, then the priority of life then falls to the life of the officer. Finally, the priority falls to the suspect."

"So it essentially ranks whose life is worth saving?" Emily asked, dumbing the concept down for the jury.

"Yes."

Emily turned back to the jury. "So in the situation outlined in this case- the life of the hostage, Hilary Brown was valued more than the life of the suspect. On the date of March 7th, my client made a choice to preserve the life of Hilary Brown. She did her job."

"Is that everything?" the judge asked dryly, as Emily nodded and sat down.

Blake stood up, and smoothed out his tie, "Mr. Parker. Do you resent-"

"Objection, your honor." Emily said, "The party of, wishes to confuse the witness. Have him ask his questions directly."

"Makes sense." The judge said, "Blake?"

"Dean Parker," Robert said, "Are you angry that the actions of Ms. Perrasmith cost you both of your legs?"

Dean seemed taken aback by the question. He looked at me.

"It's a simple question, Mr. Parker." The judge pointed out.

"No-" Dean said, "If she hadn't done what she did, I'd be dead."

* * *

There was a quick five minute recess. While most people left the court-room. I wasn't allowed, and Emily stayed with me.

"Thank you," I whispered to her, although I didn't have to, "for all of this."

Emily smiled. "It's my job."

The doors opened, as people started to flood back into the courtroom.

"Don't get mad at me, ok?" Emily whispered.

I looked at her questionably.

"It's the only way to keep you out of prison." Emily whispered back.

The judge sat down, "We have time for one more witness before the jury must start deliberation. Ms. Makison?"

"I call to the stand, Sara Otterman."

"Who?" Blake said, as she rummaged through his thick files.

"Sara Otterman."

"Objection, your honor- this witness was not part of the evidence surrendered forthwith."

"I hear your objection, Blake." The judge said, "Makison, under what grounds to Ms. Otterman?"

"By the grounds as a final character witness, _lux lucis _final evidence."

"That's Latin for, in light of." The judge pointed out, "I'll allow it."

I watched Sara get up and take her oath to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"Ms. Otterman," Emily spoke softly to her, "What is your relationship to Ms. Perrasmith?"

"We're engaged." Sara weakly said, "My fiancée."

"That's beautiful." Emily said with a genuine smile, "I'm sure you've known each other for a long time. How long?"

"Close to three years."

"I have only question for you Sara- you've known Megan Perrasmith for three years, you've seen her go through many perils, and you desire to stand by her side, as partners, for the rest of your life: does Megan Perrasmith deserve to be treated like a criminal- a person who, by definition, has no moral consciousness about the laws and policies our society has built?"

"No."

"Your honor- I rest my case. The witness is yours, Mr. Blake."

Mr. Robert Blake stood, as he cleared his throat.

"Ms. Sara Otterman, you live with Ms. Megan Perrasmith, correct?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, has Megan Perrasmith ever came off shift, and yelled. Screamed? Angry? To the point where, at times, you may have been afraid she might try to hurt you?"

I looked up to Blake and to Sara. His words had rang true. In the past year, I can remember a handful of times when I had yelled and screamed about the frustrations of my job. I remember one time, I had my sidearm in my hand…

"Everybody gets frustrated sometimes, Mr. Blake." Sara stated, "But, no…."

"No, what?" Blake asked, knowing very well that Sara's answer was very ambiguous.

"Very well." The judge said, "It is time for the jury to step into deliberation."

"Your honor," Blake protested, "The witness, the answer…"

"She provided a suitable answer, Mr. Blake. I suggest you take a seat- this may take a while."

* * *

The jury deliberated for a day.

I had to be sent back to the prison, much to the protests of both myself and my lawyer.

24 hours later, I was back on the uncomfortable bench, cuffed and shackled like a lunatic.

The jury came out and sat down. One of the older men of the jury stood, and read from a piece of paper.

"This jury of 12, under careful deliberation of the case against Officer Megan Perrasmith, from the party of the late Gail Walters, finds that the actions of Officer Perrasmith are permissible, in the course of her duties as a police officer, and is therefore found not guilty of the charges of 1st Degree Murder, Manslaughter, Assault, Assault with a weapon, assault with intent to kill, assault with intent to harm and of criminal intimidation."

I sighed a huge sigh of relief as the bailiff came over to me and released by cuffs and shackles. I immediately turned around to find Sara sitting right behind me.

I leaned over the low wall and hugged Sara, as if I never wanted to let her go.

* * *

**A/N: Phew. Long chapter for me- lots of technical speak, and not enough action. I was nearly falling asleep writing it- I hope you don't fall asleep reading it! On the other hand- review! I love hearing what you guys have to say!**


	16. Stranded

**A/N: Alright. Been awhile, hasn't it? I took quite a vacation from writing, and I completely apologize for that. What was supposed to be a productive few months in my personal life turned out to be, well, a phrase I can't say here on fanfiction. I came to the point (and I'm still here) that I no longer find fulfillment in my current career. Last year my grandmother passed away, and to be honest, I'm still coping with the loss, as she was a huge part of my life. During the winter, my childhood pet, a yellow Labrador Retriever, succumbed to his old age and passed on at a surprising 19 years. (Which actually correlates to about 98-100 human years, so go him!) A lot of the emotions I had from those events I poured into my writing, so as you can guess, I'll be pouring my heart out again into my writing. Why am I telling you all this? Because I believe it matters, and I also believe that you should know that this chapter, and the next few (because I don't want to write several small authors notes, and would rather write one HUGE one) are based entirely on real events that have happened to me. I don't want to give away spoilers, but these events rocked my world, and I will never forget them. Readers mind blown? Let me know, because I love reading your reviews, and yes, I am talking to you- zombiegirl and Hope06!**

* * *

"Kelly, give the boss a hand in setting up command post- supervise the chatter, maybe some of the officers here have some information we don't. Myself and Sam on witnesses: we don't have much time people- the more time that child is missing, the less of a chance we have of finding her."

* * *

I walked into SRU with a smile on my face, and in full uniform. I was greeted by a bevy of people: Mike, Sam, Kelly, Jules, Ed, the Commander, Greg & Dean Parker, and that weird janitor who years his shirt backwards.

"Glad to be back?" Sam asked, once most of the crowd went back to their work.

"You bet." I replied, "I never want to wear handcuffs ever again."

"You get used to it, though, eh?" Sam questioned, as we walked to the debriefing room.

"Not really," I spoke as I sat down, and started reading some files on the table, "It all seems kinda alien to me."

"File 11537." Kelly said, as she sipped some coffee.

I gave her a confused look as I looked at the file she quoted.

"Really?" I asked aloud, to no one in particular, "Wow."

Mike came into the room. "What? The alien autopsy?"

"Yeah, Spike," I responded, "The Canadian Space Agency doesn't want an armed escort because their transporting an alien body- they're transporting some space junk."

"You had to take that away from me, didn't you?" Mike replied sarcastically.

I smiled, as I browsed another file.

"Take your pick, Team Leader." Sam said, "You're coming back, so you should pick our assignment for the day."

"Drilling entries with the RCMP for some expected warrants on the DiCamilo's next month looks promising." I voiced.

"Yeah, yeah, that's one idea." Sam said, as he grabbed another file, "Or, making political comedian Rick Mercer look like a computer geek in body armor sounds like fun."

"Hey!" Mike said, taking sarcastic offense to the remark.

"There's also a promising Narc warrant on Steele." Kelly said.

"Sounds like reasonable offers." I said, "You just want to be able to show off your door breaching to the Team Leader, don't you?"

"You bet." Kelly replied.

"Ah, in most scenarios though, "I said to Kelly, "I'd be Lead, Sam on breach and entry, and you'd be second."

"Darn." Kelly laughed.

"Team One, hot call!" Jules exclaimed over the intercom, "Lost child at the Danforth Museum of Architecture."

"Or that." I laughed back.

"Let's go!" Mike said, as we stood and ran off to the garage.

* * *

Once on scene, I took charge.

"Kelly, give the boss a hand in setting up command post- supervise the chatter, maybe some of the officers here have some information we don't. Myself and Sam on witnesses: we don't have much time people- the more time that child is missing, the less of a chance we have of finding her."

"Her?" Sam asked, as we walked towards a cluster of people to start questioning.

"I assume."

"You assume right." Mike said over the radio, "One Parker McCleary, aged six years old went missing from her class on the field trip to the park just outside the DMA. Security has co-ordinated with first responders to lock down all exits. K9 units are sweeping the exterior first then the interior."

"Good thinking." I replied, "No sense looking for her inside if she's still outside. Tell those officers to keep those exits locked up: I don't care if the Queen of England shows up- she isn't getting in."

* * *

"Hi Sir, my name is Sam Braddock, I'm with the SRU." Sam started, "When was the last time you saw Parker?"

"Outside- she was playing on the swings."

"And you are?"

"I'm a parent volunteering with the group today."

"Sir, did you see any suspicious persons today before you departed from the school, or on your way here? Anybody take special interest in the class?"

"Nothing abnormal- a few older ladies on the subway thought they were cute- harmless, I'm sure."

* * *

"Ma'am," I started talking to the teacher, "I don't want to alarm you, but in your travels, did any older men take special interest in your class? Maybe even singled Parker out for any reason?"

"What are you saying?" she asked, "Do you think?…oh-my-god!"

Over the radio Kelly quipped, "Checking the Sexual Offenders Registry for names in a 10km radius from the museum."

"Check in the radius from the school too." I added before going back to speak to the teacher, "Have you contacted her parents? Anyway it could have been them picking her up?"

"I doubt it, but I'll call the school to get in contact with the parents."

"Don't bother," I stated, "We'll send an officer over to their home and place of work, if we have to."

I saw Kelly run up to my left side through my peripheral vision.

"Meg?" she asked.

"Constable Wordsworth, this is Mrs. Jenna Leigha- Xavier Elementary School teacher."

Kelly nodded. "My pleasure." She said, " Megan, K9 has no leads outside, they're coming in. The boss wants us to get a lead on them on foot."

"Alright, let's go." I said, as I secured my aviator sunglasses on my head, "Sam?"

"Got it." Sam said, "I'll take the south hall."

"I'll take the north, Kel, you're on the main hall."

"You want me on the main hallway?" Kelly hesitated.

"Kelly!" I exclaimed, "You second guessing yourself?"

"No ma'am!" Kelly replied.

"Good- you want to be SRU, this is SRU. Some days we shoot, some days we bust down doors, and some days we find missing children. Got it?"

"Got it."

* * *

"Status?" Megan radioed.

"All clear. No signs." Sam radioed back, "And I got the K9 behind me."

"Think he has a scent?" Kelly asked.

"I would hope so." Sam replied, "But at the same time, I don't think I could convince a six year old girl to come out of hiding?"

"Sam, do you think she's playing an epic game of hide-and-go seek?" Megan asked, "If so- remind me to slap you."

"Noted." Sam said as he scanned forward, and his eyes landed on something, in which he ran to. "We have a problem."

* * *

"We have a problem." Sam said over the radio.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Pink shirt- bloody."

"How much?" Kelly asked.

"How much are kids supposed to have?" Sam asked.

"Approximately 3 litres, give or take." Kelly answered.

"She might be missing one of them."

I stopped walking and shut my eyes. It's one thing to be looking for a missing child- it's another kind of thing to be looking for a missing injured child being held against her will.

_What would I do if it was my little sister- Kristina?_

_I'd make them bleed._

* * *

Sam carefully continued on, with the K9 officer and the dog- by his side.

"Can you dog pick up on blood trails?" Sam asked.

"Big time."

"Good."

They continued on, looking in every nook and cranny, letting the scent dog take the lead.

"My hall dumps into the main soon, so I can hook up with Kelly shortly." Sam transmitted over the radio, as he turned to look behind another display.

Behind the display of a 18 foot Statue of Liberty, was a greying older man, holding a bloody knife standing over the limp and nearly lifeless Parker McCleary like a deranged psychopath.

"I got joy." Sam whispered, as he brought up my MP5 to line.

* * *

"Sam, what's your twenty?" I asked.

"New York architecture." Sam stated.

"Mike?" I asked, "What's my shortest route? Backstep or continue on?"

"Turning back won't help you, and the north hallway is separate from the other two. The best route to Sam is to continue on, go outside the door, turn right and enter the next entrance into the centre hallway. Once there, you're still a good 100 yards from Sam's location. Kelly?"

Kelly whispered through the radio, "I got the solution."

"Are you concealed?" I asked.

"Affirmative."

"Good job. Stay blue. Sam- this is your intervention: he's probably stage 3 on the psychosis scale, so he'll be vulnerable to lies. You'll have to be truthful."

"Copy, copy." Sam replied.

"Mike," I spoke again, "Get a CCTV snap and get some background on our suspect for Sam. I'm 30 seconds out, and I'll second Sam. Got it?"

"Got it." Sam confirmed, "My intervention."

* * *

"Sir, my name is Sam Braddock- I'm with the Police Strategic Response Unit."

"Get rid of the dog, get rid of the dog. Allergies. Dog goes."

"Sir, I can work with that, but you're going to have to put down the knife."

"No, no no no no no, no, no no no no- no." the man muttered.

"Sir, I'm having a hard time trusting you if you can't put down the knife- put down the knife, and we can talk about what happened here today."

"People don't trust me!" the man screamed.

"How can they man, if you go around stabbing little girls? Why don't you tell me about her-"

"His name is Albert McGregor." Mike interjected.

"Why don't you tell me about Parker, Albert?"

"Albert. Albert? Alberta? Is that me? Alberta?" Bert? Albert?"

I finally got to the opposite side of Sam and Albert.

"Do not move!" I yelled at him, "Drop the knife!"

"Ok, Albert," Sam said, trying to get back his attention from me, "This is my friend. She's with me. Ok?"

"She's a girl." Albert said.

"That she is buddy." Sam said, "Why don't we put down the knife, the dog goes away, and we talk about what happened here?"

"She's a girl." Albert said, looking back at me, "I'm screwed."

"I'm not sure I follow." Sam admitted.

"She's a girl. I have a knife, she has a gun. She's a girl."

He sighed and threw down the knife.

"I'm screwed." He muttered.

"Put your hands on your head." I commanded, as I stepped forward "Put your hands on your head!"

He put his hands on the floor, smearing blood all over the place, "Alright, I'm doing it. You only need to tell me five times."

As I slipped on the cuffs, Sam called for medics.

It was so far, a good day.

* * *

After the shift, me and Kelly were in the women's locker room getting changed.

I had just finished brushing my hair, when a knock came at the door, followed by a familiar voice, "Decent?"

"Yeah." Both me and Kelly replied in unison.

Mike entered.

"Just got off the phone with the hospital, Parker is pulling through."

"An excellent ending to an excellent first day back." I said to both Mike and Kelly, "Good work out there Kelly."

Kelly grabbed her bag, and started on her way out, "Thanks Megan."

Once Kelly was gone, Mike sat on the bench in front of my locker, as I grabbed my bag, and tossed in some shirts for laundry.

"How you feeling?" Mike asked.

"What?" I asked.

"Megan, I can tell when you are angry or upset, and you're somewhere in between."

"I'm not upset Spike."

"Megan- I've known you for years, you can tell me anything."

I leaned up against my locker, as I closed the door, and looked at Mike. I hesitated speaking, and bit my lip.

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"It's just- I fell like my whole life is one whole crap train- pardon my language."

"That's a new one- haven't heard that one."

"It's always something- my whole life. But I have no problem talking about those things, but I feel like that no one understands me because they haven't been through the stuff I have. I feel stranded."

"Megan, I understand." Mike said, "Have I ever told you why I became a bomb technician?"

"No."

"When I was a kid, I liked explosions- every week, something bigger and better. One day, my dad came home from work and I had mixed hydrochloric acid with-"

"Spike, can you just skip to the end of the story? I kinda have a wedding to plan, since, you know, I was in prison for the past week."

"Anyways I had burned myself pretty bad. My dad was mad- he was ready to take me out of school and have my mom home school me. But I learned how to make the bombs right, and then I learned how to take them apart."

"That has nothing to do with me."

"Yes, it does- because I have things I can never forget- two of my best friends dying in front of me: you're not the only one who is stranded, Megan."

* * *

**A/N: Right, right? Anywho- I forgot to mention this earlier. BIG NEWS- Remember that fiction that started all of this? What was is called again? **_**A New Beginning? **_**And what's this link on my screen right now? It would be to a free download of the FULL PDF download of **_**A New Beginning. **_**That's right. Put it on your phone, put it on your tablet, and read **_**A New Beginning **_**mobile style. Link it up by hitting up the following link****. (C****opy & paste to your URL box and remove the plus marks) www.+file+dropper+ +****a+new+beginning+ebook+1st+edition**+

**If the link doesn't connect you it's probably because ****it's expired. See, it was uploaded June 21****st****/2013 and it's only good for 30 days unless it keeps receiving downloads. If it is doing this, let me know, and I can most definitely upload a new link.**


	17. Paroxysm

**A/N: Ok, I lied. That last chapter? It's the only chapter where I'm going to use personal experience. Why? I don't really feel like sharing that kind of info online.**

**In other news, I've got hooked on Rookie Blue! If you don't know what it is, SHAME ON YOU, and Google it my friends! And because I love Rookie Blue so much, (but honestly not as much as Flashpoint), I'm going to be dropping some Rookie Blue references from time to time. Cheyeah!**

* * *

"You nervous?"

"About what?" I asked.

Mike leaned in on his chair from across the table in the debriefing room. "The wedding- next week. You nervous?"

"You know…" I started, as I thought about it, "I- I don't…no."

"You're brave." Mike commended, "I know if I was getting married, I'd be nervous."

Sam and Kelly walked into the debriefing room, bringing mine and Mike's conversation to a close.

"Been a quiet night, hasn't it?" Kelly said, as she started to sit.

"Really?" Sam asked, "Now we know we're going to get a call."

"What?" Kelly asked.

"Kelly-" I replied, "Word to the wise: don't jinx things. Typically things are going to happen when people jinx things."

"I didn't know Master Corporal Sam Braddock was superstitious." Kelly answered.

"I'm not." Sam defended.

"Team One, we got a-" Jules yelled over from the desk.

"A what, Jules?" Mike yelled over in glee.

"A bomb call!"

We suddenly got up and went to the dispatcher's desk in a calm but fast matter.

"Jules- what's up?" Sam asked.

"Some rookie down in 15 division stepped on an IED in a meth lab."

"Oh joy." I muttered.

"And," Jules continued, "The staff sargent of 15 division in on the phone, wanting to talk to the reporting officer in charge. Be you, right, Spike?"

"Yeah, it'd be me." Mike replied, "Forward to my cell. Megan and Sam are together, Kelly, you're driving- I'm with you."

* * *

I drove one SUV, while Kelly drove the one in the back.

Once on scene, me and Sam piled out, and started observing the high end home.

"We sure there's a meth lab in there?" Sam asked.

"C'mon Sam," I said, "You of all people know not to judge a book by its cover."

I looked around, and saw a young officer standing around, looking quite useless.

"Hey," I started as I looked at his nameplate on his vest, "Team Leader Team One, Officer Megan Perrasmith- Diaz, is it?"

"Yeah, officer Chris Diaz." He replied.

"Officer- is the building clear?"

"Yeah, my partner-" Chris started.

"Got it." I replied, as Kelly and Mike walked up behind me and Sam, "Boss- IED. You want this one?"

"Negative." Mike replied, "Meg, you take this one."

"You got it." I replied, as I went to the SUV I drove and grabbed the bomb gear.

I took a deep breath as I walked towards the house. _ I'm nervous about defusing what's probably going to be a simple IED, but not my wedding? Yes, because that makes a lot of sense._

"Entering the house." I radioed in.

"Down the steps," Kelly radioed back, "Past some basement renovations, and through an open door. Careful- I got an officer out here telling me the door was initially rigged with a trip wire hooked to a 12 gauge."

"Terrific. Anything else?"

"Negative." Kelly replied, "Radio in what you gather, and we can work on this out here."

"Copy that."

Using Kelly's directions, I got to the room. Inside of the room was filled with equipment fashioned to make methamphetamine.

"Decorum by meth-heads." I said to the man who stood in a tired state in the middle of the room.

"Victim is Officer Dov Epstein." Kelly radioed.

"Dov, is it?" I asked the officer.

"How'd you know?" he asked, trying too hard to seem calm.

"Ok, Dov- you're going to have to be both calm, and very still, ok?"

"Got it- calm and still. Still and calm. Done."

I bent down to start inspecting the pressure plate.

"Calm and still." Dov repeated.

"You done, rook?" I asked, taking note of the lack of rank insignia on his uniform.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good."

I pulled out the penlight and peered through the crack between the normal floor and the pressure plate.

Engaging the radio, I spoke- "I see a pressure activated switch. Using a snake camera to get a better look."

Using one of the cameras, I slid it between the crack. "Ok, definitely a mechanical pressure activated switch. I can remove the spring, which will allow the plate to stay in the 2nd phase of activation, allowing weight to be removed."

"You confident with that?" Mike asked through the radio, "Don't forget- mechanical, chemical and physical: the three methods of bomb defusing. Is it completely mechanical? Will the removal of the spring defuse the entire bomb, or is the switch relayed to an electronic switching board, which sets off the charge?"

"If you'd stop yakking, I'd be able to figure that out." I quibbed, "Looks like we have a chemical failsafe- some sort of clear liquid in a small vial burst by a shard when the pins for the pressure spring is removed."

"What does it look like that liquid will do?" Mike asked.

"Looks like it'll fall onto the return spring, making it seem like the pressure on the plate was removed and therefore setting it off."

"Probably something that dissolves metal- most likely aqua regia, but still could be nitric acid."

"Which is better?" I asked.

"Nitric." Mike replied, "But let's assume its aqua. Aqua regia can be decomposed by adding chlorine, which results in nitrous oxide, or we can cool it past the freezing point."

"Mike, while your knowledge of chemistry is impressive, just tell me what to do."

"Cool it. Sam's bringing the dry ice to you."

Within minutes, Sam was behind me and passed me everything I needed.

First- came the eye protection, then the gloves, followed by the tongs. Once he passed me the tongs, he opened the cooler, and I used the tongs I grab a small piece of dry ice , which I dropped into the crack, close to the proximity of the vial of aqua regia.

* * *

Mike counted down five minutes, as it took five minutes for the aqua regia to fully freeze. Once frozen, we had three minutes to remove the springs.

"Alright, Dov," I reassured the rookie, "We're on the home stretch."

"You friends with that hot blonde rookie out there?" Sam asked him, getting Epstein's mind off the situation.

"Gail?" Dov asked, "I guess."

Using tiny angled tweezers, I used the snake camera to remove the springs.

The return spring was first. It came out easy.

Then the pressure spring. I had to pick away at some clear glue around the pins. Once off, I had to use the same tools, in the tiny space to push the pins out so the spring would pop out of its location.

"Top spring out." I radioed.

"You're doing good Meg." Sam cheered on from behind me.

"Thanks for the moral support." I replied sarcastically back.

"Sorry." Sam apologized.

"No," I said, as I dropped the tools and looked back at him, "I'm sorry, just not myself right now."

"Can you have your heart to heart conversation another time?" Dov exclaimed.

"Yeah." I replied, "I'm on it Dov."

* * *

"Thirty seconds." Mike replied, "Megan, Sam you need to get out there before the aqua unfreezes."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because after it returns to liquid state from a frozen, or solid state, aqua regia becomes extremely unstable, and may burst the vial.

"And?"

"The shrapnel from the glass may hit the plastic explosive and set off a chain reaction." Mike informed us.

"Wait." I calmly stated.

"No, we're not waiting Megan." Mike yelled this time, "Sam, Megan- get out of there! Let it blow!"

"Sam!" I yelled.

Sam leaped forward, "Yeah?"

I pried the small vial out from the crack and handed it to Sam with the tweezers.

From where he was, Sam threw the vial into the next room, where it exploded in the air.

"That was so cool." Dov said, with a grin.

"IED defused." I replied through the radio, "Explosive left in place for removal and disposal by bomb squad."

* * *

**A/N: Doh! I went to write Chapter 18, so I thought, 'oh, I should reread my previous chapter', which is when it hit me! I hadn't uploaded it yet! So sorry, my apologies! I had this written up weeks ago!**


	18. The Wedding

"You ok?" Ed asked.

_Am I ok? _

"You're nervous. It's normal."

"I feel like I'm gonna puke." I commented.

"That's normal." Ed reassured, "I thought the same the minutes leading up to my wedding."

I looked up to Ed.

"Thanks Ed."

"For what?"

"For this."

"Hey," Ed said, as he put his arm around mine, as we started walking down the aisle, "you're practically family."

Once at the altar, Ed kissed my cheek, and he returned to his seat- in the first row, beside Clark, Isabelle Jules, Kristina and Sara's family.

I picked up the unknowingly light white dress, as I stepped up to the altar, and stood to the left side of the priest. Although me and Sara are what some people would call 'unconventional', we opted for a traditional style wedding.

I peered down the same aisle I walked, to see Sara walking with her father. I took several quick, breaths as she stood up on the altar beside me. _This is actually happening!_

"We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together Megan Perrasmith and Sara Waterman, in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church: which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men: and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God. Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace."

He nodded.

"I believe you have written vows?"

I turned to Sara.

"I take you to be my partner, to have and to hold from this day forward. I give to you my unending love and devotion. I promise to be true to you, to cherish you, and to share my thoughts, hopes and dreams with you. I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you, my best friend. I will love you forever."

Sara smiled, and replied: "I promise to be there when you need me, to fill your days with sunshine,to comfort you and encourage you, to help you reach your goals, to be your best friend ever and to love you all my life with all my heart."

I turned back to the priest.

"We actually have more." I stated. "A lot more."

"Go ahead." He said, with a beaming smile.

"Sara- I give you this ring, wear it with love and joy. I choose you to be my partner, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish as long as we both shall live."

"I take you to be my lifetime partner, secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend, and my one true love." Sara replied.

"Sara, I take you to be my wife from this time onward, to join with you and to share all that is to come, to be your faithful wife, to give and to receive, to speak and to listen, to inspire and to respond; a commitment made in love, kept in faith, and eternally made new."

"Megan, I love you. You are my best friend and will be forever. Today I give myself to you in marriage to be your wife. I promise to encourage you, to laugh with you and to comfort you in times of sorrow. I promise to love you in good times and bad. I promise to cherish and respect you. I vow to be true and faithful for as long as we both shall live. Because of you, I laugh, I smile, I dare to dream again. I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you, caring, loving and being there for you in all life has for us. I will always be the person that you can trust, talk to and the person that will always understand. I will make my home in your heart. These promises I give you today and all of the days of our lives. Take this ring as a sign of my faith and commitment. Our love has given us wings and our journey begins today."

"And here comes the waterworks!" Spike muttered, although everybody in the church heard him, as his voice echoed off the walls and ceilings.

Everybody, including me and Sara laughed.

"Sara- will you have this Woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Megan, will you have this Woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"And the rings?" the priest asked.

We both placed our wedding rings on each other's hand. It seemed like something spiritual was actually connecting us.

"Bless, O Lord, these rings, that she who gives it and she who wears it may abide in peace, and continue in your favor, unto their life's end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen." The crowd chorused.

"And let us now pray to the Lord, as He has taught us; Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name; Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, On Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen. O eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life; Send your blessing upon these your servants, these women, whom we bless in your Name; that they, living faithfully together, may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen."

"God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you, and fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace; that you may so live together in this life, that in the world to come you may have life everlasting. Amen. I now pronounce you wed. You may kiss the bride."

As directed, we leant in and kissed with passion that I've never felt before. _Something feels so right._

"And as I understand, " the priest continued, "The reception is at Palais Royale on Lakeshore-"

But then something whipped by my face, just inches away. I looked back to the priest.

He laid on the ground with a bullet wound in his chest.

"Sara, get down." I said, as I covered her body with mine, guarding her, should any shots come our way.

From the benches, I heard Mike on his cellphone.

"Hi, this is SRU Sargent Michelangelo Scarlatti, we have shots fired at Saint Michael's Cathedral, at 65 Bond Street."

Ed, Sam, Kelly, and a few other SRU officers approached us on the altar.

While the others attended to the shot priest, Ed, Sam and Kelly knelt beside me.

"Sara, Megan- you ok?" Ed asked.

I looked to Megan, who nodded.

"Yeah, we're good." I replied.

"Where'd the shot come from?"

"Had to have come from near the entrance.

"That way?" Sam asked, pointing his hand.

"Yes."

"Safe extraction to a cruiser?" Sam asked both Kelly and Sam.

Sam nodded, as he grabbed for his concealed pistol, as Ed did the same.

"Kelly, you're not carrying?" Sam asked.

"Here," I said, as I hiked up my dress, and unholstered a handgun I had strapped to my upper thigh.

"Can't take a day off?" Sam asked with a laugh.

"I'm never off duty." I replied.

"Well today you are," Ed demanded, "We're going to safely extract you and Sara to a cruiser. The cruiser's going to take you to the airport, and you'll board your flight for your honeymoon. Got it?"

"But-" I protested.

"No 'buts' Perrasmith." Sam replied, "You're going."

I handed Sara my hand, as I hauled her up to her feet. I gave her another quick kiss.

"Together?" I asked her.

"Together." She replied.

**A/N: No breaks! Nice! I'd like to hear your thoughts on the wedding chapter, because I spent a lot of time doing research, and pre-writing a lot of the altar dialogue. As always- READ AND REVIEW!**


	19. Betta Problems

**A/N: Before I start, I have a few things to mention. For starters, my ambition to continue writing fanfictions has severely dwindled. Not only do I have a few personal things going on in my life, but I have some other writing projects I'd like to focus on. And the traffic stats to my fanfictions just compound the problem: I'm putting my creative time into writing this, for the enjoyment of my fans, and others, but the numbers aren't there. Unless I see things change soon, I don't think I'm going to continue writing fanfictions anymore.**

**And more about this chapter: I don't want to give much away, but I don't know much about sororities, and I think it's quite apparent in this chapter. **

* * *

"You want to tell me why she'd be holding Jen at gunpoint?"

"Look, I don't know anything, ok." The girl admitted.

"Really?" Sam asked, switching his stance slightly to look more authoritative, "Because we know what you did to her."

* * *

As I entered the SRU building, I took off my sunglasses, whipped my hair back and placed them on my head. I squinted my eyes slightly, as they adjusted to the difference in light from outside.

"The second of three Mrs. Perrasmith's." Mike said, as he walked down the steps towards me. Beaming with his charismatic smile, he offered a hug which I accepted. After he broke off, he asked, "How was your honeymoon?"

"Amazing." I replied.

"Where'd you go?"

"Scotland." I said with a smile, "We're both partially Scottish."

Mike continued smiling, "I've never seen you so happy, Megan. Briefing in ten?"

"Briefing in ten." I replied, as I entered the women's locker room.

Once inside, I went to my locker, opened it and started pulling a set of clean uniform out. I was just about to get changed, when I heard a whimper coming from the shower area.

I started to approach, as my mind went to over-drive. _There are three women in the SRU force, not including the dispatchers- myself, Donna and Kelly._

I turned the corner to see Kelly in full uniform, nursing faint yellow bruises on her face, as she silently whimpered in pain.

"Kelly-" I asked, "What the-"

"It's nothing, ok?" Kelly replied.

"If someone is hurting you Kelly, we have to know." I informed.

"If you know what's good for you, leave me alone."

I stepped back, and spoke, "Are you threatening me?"

"No…it's just…it's complicated, ok? Just don't ask questions, leave me alone, and please don't tell the Sarge."

I approached her, and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, "You got it." I whispered.

Then the horn rang out, followed by a familiar voice, a voice I hadn't heard for a couple weeks, "Team One, hot call- hot call!"

* * *

We bounded to the SUVs, as Jules radioed us the details.

"Armed and barricaded at the University's Alpha Gamma Delta sorority on 506 Huron Street. We may have multiple assailants. 15 Division officers are on scene."

I rode along with Sam, who was driving. I grabbed the radio piece as I radioed back to Jules, "Patch me into the officers on scene, Jules."

"Copy that Megan." She replied, as I heard some buttons being pressed in the background, "To your sat in three, two…"

The satellite phone in the SUV rang once, as I answered it.

"This Strategic Response Unit Officer Megan Perrasmith- who am I speaking to?"

"This would Sam Swarek." Came the cocky officer's voice.

"Officer Swarek, my dispatcher informs me there may be multiple assailants. What's going on?"

"We're piecing that together right now," Swarek said, "But it would seem like it's a hazing gone wrong."

"Alpha Gams?" I asked, "They the ones who got caught last year paddling their inductees?"

"They would be the ones. I gotta go."

After the line went dead, I radioed back to Jules, "Jules, we're going to need more uniforms at 506 Huron. We need a hard perimeter. What's the ETA on the command truck?"

"Truck's two minutes out."

"Copy that." I replied, as Sam came to a stop with the SUV, "SRU on scene at 506 Huron, attending to an armed and barricaded."

* * *

We all got out of the SUVs. A few 15 Division rookies were setting up a perimeter of police tape.

"Kelly and Sam, recon the house- all windows and doors." Mike directed, as I stayed back to discuss tactical options with Mike.

"What are you thinking?" Mike asked, as he could tell I was thinking hard about the options.

I adjusted my sunglasses. "We need info- we need to know exactly what's going on- who we're talking to and why, and how they got there."

"Looks like 15 division is canvassing and interviewing, I'll gather the info, and see what's relevant. You going to talk?"

"Talk then tactics." I mentioned, as I engaged the radio, "Sam, tac options?"

"Armed and barricaded in a dorm room on the third floor."

"So no blowing out a window?"

"No."

"We need to establish a connection." Mike said, as the command truck rolled on scene, "Command's here."

Mike started walking towards the command truck, as I stated, "I'm going to have Kelly talk."

Mike stopped and turned back to me, "You think she's ready?"

"She has to be." I said.

Mike nodded, as he went into the command truck. As he entered, Sam and Kelly returned.

"And?" I asked.

"Not much to report." Kelly reported in.

"Ok," I said, "We're going to go low and slow in, get as close as possible, and talk her down. Kelly, you up for talking?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Sam, second the boss, and be ready to second me if we need to go tactical."

"Copy that. Gas or bang?"

"Hopefully neither, " I answered, "But if we have to, gas would be our option. We got an older building here, so one bang, and the whole thing could fall down on us."

"Copy."

* * *

Me and Kelly calmly walked up to the room. Before we got there, Mike radioed us with the details.

"Here's what I got- Michele Rochon is a newbie at the sorority, so she underwent the common, but highly illegal freshman hazing. "

"What did they make her do?" I asked.

"Nobody is telling us, but I'm going through arrests made at this address in the years past for hazing activities- some harmless, some more serious."

"Like?" I asked.

"You really want to know?" Mike asked.

"Mike…"

"Kissing frogs, a full day naked in the house are some of the harmless ones…"

"A full day naked?" Kelly quibbled, "That's not harmless, that's mean."

"…some of the more serious ones include forced robbery, break and enter; public humiliation…"

"Terrific." I noted, "Who does she have at gunpoint?"

"The house leader, Jennifer Warden;" Mike answered over the radio, "21 years old, attending University of Toronto, and going for- brace for it- Bachelors of Arts- Criminal Justice."

"Oh the irony." I muttered to myself, as I gestured Kelly to start the intervention.

"Michele Rochon," Kelly started, "My name is Kelly Wordsworth, and I'm with the Police Strategic Response Unit. Everything ok in there?"

"Everything is ok officer." Came Michele's muffled voice, "I just want an apology."

"Michele- this is not the way to do it, ok?" Kelly replied. "Guns don't solve anything- they just create bigger problems. Can I open the door so we can talk better?"

"You open that door; I will blow your face off!"

* * *

"1327 hours, threats uttered to negotiator." Mike annotated.

Then the command truck door opened. Sam entered, followed by a university student.

"Sargent Mike Scarlatti, this is Amanda Crae." Sam introduced them, "She was identified as a principal witness by one of the attending officers."

"I don't know anything, ok?" Amanda asked.

"Where did Michele get the gun?" Mike asked.

"Am I under arrest? You can't do that without reading me my rights."

"You're not under arrest." Sam said, "You've been detained pending police investigation."

"Let's talk about Michele." Mike suggested.

"Let's not." Amanda stubbornly stated.

"You know, Officer Braddock, we could arrest her for obstruction of justice, obstruction of a police investigation, and I'm sure we have reason for a search, which may lead to charging her with possession of a controlled substance- maybe with intent to distribute?"

"We could." Sam nodded.

"What do you want to know about Michele?" Amanda asked, becoming compliant.

"You want to tell me why she'd be holding Jen at gunpoint?" Sam asked.

"Look, I don't know anything, ok." The girl admitted, "I don't know where she got the gun."

"Really?" Sam asked, switching his stance slightly to look more authoritative, "Because we know what you did to her. You may think its fun and games, and maybe it is- until something like this happens."

"Yeah." Mike continued on with Sam's obvious bluff, "You know, you help us out, we could help you out with some of the charges you'd face with that hazing."

"It's not my fault." Amanda said, feeling like they were onto her, "It's Jen- she always goes overboard. Yeah, ok, maybe it was my idea for her to steal a couple bucks from the corner store, but then Jen said she wanted cigarettes, food, and lighters."

"So, robbery, eh?" Mike said, as he wrote down some notes.

"Wait- I thought you knew?"

"You're a second year university student; you'd think you'd know a bluff by now." Sam added. "Anything else?"

"Jen had joked about having some Alpha Delta Phis paddle her."

Mike gave Sam a look of concern.

"What?" Sam asked.

"That's the frat that had some members arrested last year for assault and rape."

Then the radio crackled to life, "Sam! We're taking fire- we need immediate action!"

* * *

Sam radioed that he was on his way up. I knelt down and removed the door sledge from my pack.

"I'm alpha on primary entry. Sam, bravo, on less lethal with the gas, and Kelly second Sam on lethal in case we need to go sideways."

"Copy that." Kelly and Sam replied.

I swung the ram back, as it gained momentum, and it slammed into the thin hollow wood door, forcing it to slam open. As I stayed off to the side of the doorway, Sam pulled the pin on a gas grenade and threw it in. He timed it perfectly so it would start releasing the gas as soon as it landed, causing an excellent distraction for Sam to enter the room, taser drawn, going direct to threat.

Entering the room behind him, was Kelly, who kept her Glock sidearm out and ready to fire. Behind Kelly I entered, and attended to the victim.

"I'm Officer Megan Perrasmith, I'm with the Police Strategic Response Unit. You're going to be ok. For your safety, my partner- Officer Sam Braddock is going to take Amanda out of the room first, then after they have cleared the building, I will escort you out. For my safety, I am handcuffing you. You will be checked out by paramedics. Boss?"

Mike radioed, "Yeah- two buses on scene and First Response ACP Supervisor Sara Perrasmith also on scene."

As I helped Jen up, I could hardly stop myself from smiling. Once up and we went to leave, I noticed Kelly was still standing in the middle of the room with her sidearm still in her hands.

"Officer Wordsworth-" I exclaimed, grabbing her attention, "Holster your weapon."


End file.
